Fire, Dreams, and Twilight
by Katreal
Summary: All it takes is one 'dream' to push events into motion that will change the very fate of Gaea. Armed with foreknowledge, and a clueless exTurk at his side, a young Cloud Strife is bound and determined to change the path destiny was walking down.
1. Prologue

**Fire, Dreams, and Twilight – A Final Fantasy VII Story**

_-  
__**Prologue**__  
- _

_Fire…_

_Burning. The roar drowned out everything, flames leaping into the air away from the building, blocking all escape for the woman he knew was trapped inside. There was a groan, the old wooden frame of the house giving way, giving in, leaving no hope for the woman trapped inside. _Mother!

_The fire raged, turning the once quaint town into a landscape right out of a picture of Hell. Corpses scattered all about, thrown around like dolls that the owner no longer cared for. Only one person remained alive, once silver hair glowing orange and reds in the firelight, mad mako green eyes glittering with an unholy glee._

_Nightmares…_

_It was a dark room, lit by a faint sickly green light, a place that whispered of such pain. Stacks and stacks of books were scattered around the room. Innocent looking things they were, holding such dark secrets, the knowledge within enough to send a grown man into insanity. A shadow against the backdrop of green, a man—no, a monster in human skin. The scientist watched the instrument panel to the side of the tank. And there was someone else, someone close, a lost name, a lost identity._

_A lost life._

_Everything else moved quicker now, faint images, snapshots instead of horrifying scenes._

_There was a brown-haired girl, someone important, someone familiar—a bright spirit and powerful strength. _

_A maiden, the embodiment of innocence, but she was cold as ice when lowered into a crystal clear lake, her face peaceful even in death. _

_Piercing red eyes, tattered cape, guilt driven—once a Turk working to rectify a past mistake._

_Other images flashed by, disjointed scenes that made no sense. A man with a gun arm traveling beside a lion-like animal. A young girl argued with an older man, an unlit cigarette left forgotten in his hand. _

_But then they all died away, leaving behind…nothing. Nothing but green. It felt almost liquid, suffocating. It hurt…Burning/freezing…nothingbutpain—_

"_Cl…ou…d…" And then it was gone, a soft voice soothing the pain away. Gentle hands gripped his shoulders, long unbound brown hair filled his vision, "Cl…oud…"_

_Warmth filled him, wrapping around him._

"_Remember…"_

_Fire…_

"Cloud!"

No!

He was jerked awake, eyes going wide as he stared up into a familiar face. Warm golden blonde hair spilled down over her shoulder, kind yet concerned brown eyes watched him in a manner only one other had done.

Not again! Not again!

His eyes traveled away from her face, his heart beating faster as everything fit together. Just…a dream? No, it wasn't. It was real! He knew it! It couldn't be her. She died! She leaned over, her hair just barely coming out of her ponytail, "Shh…it's okay. It was just a nightmare."

Words caught in his throat, forming a lump that he could not banish. It couldn't be just a dream. Couldn't. He'd seen it all before. Seen it…The doctor said they would stop! They said it would stop and it hadn't. He shivered, remembering the icy-hot burning-freezing, the sense of drowning. _I'mgonnadie! _

"_It's okay, Cloud."_ But she was here…real. She was real, the warm hands petting his head was real_. _The warmth as she pulled his small body into her arms was _real._

He choked back a sob, tears spilling out of his eyes as the woman gathered him up in her arms, "Mom…?"

"It's going to be alright," She cooed, patting his unruly spiked hair in a soothing manner, "It's alright, I'm here now."

But…the other felt real too…The images; they remained, burned into his mind's eye. He could almost see the flames flickering against the wall; almost hear the laughter of the one to start it all.

Cloud shivered, deep in his bones he knew.

_It was not a dream._

A/N: **3/20/2009 – Revised! **I fleshed it out, adding more detail and whatnot. Those who have read it before, let me know which you like better.


	2. Part I Ch I: Fire

**-  
Part I Chapter I - Fire**

_**Early June – Year 1 **_

A voice drifted through the dark, poking and prodding relentlessly even while muffled from traveling through stone. He clung desperately to the cold embrace of sleep, but it was being driven back, a sudden brilliant shaft of light murdering the surrounding shadows. Slowly he began to feel his body again, the alien, hateful body he'd been gifted—no, cursed with.

"I know you're in there. Wake up!"

It was louder, clear, more insistent. He was aware of fists pounding against the stone lid of his bed—no, beds didn't have lids. Hazy memories drifted forward, of a dank and dusty room filled with coffins, with an extra large one set on a raised dais in the center, the lid open and leaning against the side. His long-unused instincts came to life, slashing away the clinging spider webs of sleep, kicking his mind into gear. Wake up, it said. Remember, they said. You aren't alone, they said.

The intruder to his room was speaking again, but Vincent paid no mind to the words, he was instead turning his thoughts inward, going over the floating, half remembered events that took place in his last waking moments. He remembered being lowered into the coffin, the large arms of Hojo's hired laborers blocking much of the drug-hazy view. They'd removed the restraints on his tired, beaten body, then there were grunts of exertion, the sound of stone grinding against stone, and then…

Nothing.

He had no idea how long he had lain here undisturbed, it could have been days, or it could have been years since the scientist had locked him away, intending to never return. In a way he felt his imprisonment was justified, his lips twitched momentarily into a sardonic smile, a monster that couldn't be controlled was better off locked away. It had taken a good ten of his flunkies, along with a couple Turks to take him down.

"If you aren't going to get up, I'll drag you out of there myself."

A grunt followed the statement, and a force threw itself against the stone lid of the coffin. His eyes were forced shut by the light that suddenly spilled through the small sliver that the intruder had managed to open. It hurt, oh Gaea it _hurt._ He knew that there was actually very little light in the lab, much less this boarded up side room, but that rationalization did nothing to dull the pain of a major sensory overload. More grunts and the lid opened wider and wider.

"The least you could do is help."

Finally the stone lid fell to the ground with a thud, and a small, soft, _human_ hand latched onto his right arm. There was a ghost of a similar sensation through the false nerves in his metal limb as well. Shocked at the unaccustomed touch he jerked away, body moving on impulse and instincts, even without his eyes the leap up to the edge of the coffin was child's play. When cornered, move to high ground.

Vocal cords rusty from disuse he managed to grate out a "Hojo…?"

"No."

And Vincent believed him.

"Then go away."

He held no desire to leave, the only reason he'd asked was so he could rend him limb from limb if it was the scientist.

"I'm not going to leave you here."

"You have no choice."

With that he slid back into the coffin, reaching up with his metal claw to grab the edge of the lid, he could feel it leaning over the opening. Suddenly a weight grabbed onto the cold metal, sending a jolt through the false nerves, just long enough for him to pause, pulling into a sitting position. He couldn't see, just a peak proved that, but he tilted his head toward where the person began speaking again.

"I'm getting rid of this lab, and I don't want you to be killed in the process."

Curious. The only ones who knew the existence of this room, and the actual laboratory would be Hojo and his pet scientists, and they would not be willing to destroy a such a holy place of science. He did not recognize the intruder, he sounded far too young, and sane to be part of that pack of madmen. So many questions. If he truly wished to destroy the lab, Vincent wouldn't stop him. He held no attachment to the place, and it would be only fitting to destroy all the remnants of Hojo's twisted experiments along with it.

The 'rescuer' tugged at his arm again. "Let's go."

"You don't understand what you are asking." He couldn't leave; he deserved to be locked away down there, miles beneath the ground. Everything Hojo touched was touched by evil. It didn't matter that there were whispers that wished for the life he once had, and barring that, just to see the sky again. He had to stay, had to prevent himself from hurting anyone else. Aside from Hojo, that man deserved a fate far worse than death. It would be so fitting, for one of the monsters he created to be the one that sent him to hell.

"I'm not going to just leave you to die."

Vincent's head snapped toward the voice, opening his eyes a little more to glare at the speaker, although he could see nothing but a blurred silhouette. His lips tightened and he hissed out between clenched teeth, "You seem to think you have a choice in the matter."

He felt a small hand rub his shoulder, trying to calm him down. He flinched away from the touch. The person sighed. "It doesn't matter. Please, just come with me…anything is better than this hell-hole."

That touch, he almost caught himself wanting to lean back into it. To accept the first kind gesture since…since…He could barely remember.

"I don't even know who you are." Bit by bit, his resolve was beginning to crumble; every fiber of Vincent's being screaming at him to take the second chance he was being given. He wanted to, oh how he wanted to; he wanted to feel the sun on his face again, the wind in his hair, the feel of a concerned hand on his arm…

"Won't you at least give me a chance?"

The longing festered beneath the surface, but the he managed to rein it in. He couldn't just give in, if he did, then her death would be in vain. He still had so many sins to atone, most of them remnants of _her_. He didn't deserve to be happy. _It doesn't have to be for happiness. _Some far distant part of himself whispered, _By staying where _he _put you, you are giving in to _him_._ The thought hit him like a ton of bricks. _Take the chance._

"Just open your eyes, we need to leave."

"Can't." It was a feeble excuse, unable to hold out against the person's insistent pleading and his own selfish desires. "The light hurts."

"Let me help you."

And just like that, he gave in, didn't resist when the hand pulled him forward, out of the room that had been his prison for what he was sure was for a long time. He didn't know exactly, but the dust…the smell of dust and cobwebs and dried blood, the lack of Hojo's sterilization fluid…It was so very different from when he fell asleep. They walked in silence, the other leading and Vincent following. He could hear the drip of water somewhere in the opposite direction from where they were heading. "What is back there?"

"The Library…" The voice managed to grate out, although the pure loathing in his tone told Vincent exactly how he felt about that place. "_that_ is the reason I am going to burn this place to the ground. The world would be better off without those books."

The other picked up the pace, stopping once to warn Vincent of the ascending stairs. He took it all in stride, listening intently to the echoes of the other's soft footfalls to tell him where the steps were. Soon the floor beneath his feet changed, going abruptly from cold stone to creaking wood. "Did we take the Study Stairs?" Vincent asked curious, trying to remember the map he'd had to memorize during the year or two he'd been assigned to this place as guard duty. The other paused, his grip on Vincent's arm going slack for a moment. "Well, yes. You mean to say there are others?"

"There are several passages to the basement." He shrugged his shoulders in a dismissive motion, covering up the anxiety he felt. "The upstairs floors of the mansion were merely a cover up."

The other cursed, his grip tightened. "I only knew about that one. I suppose I'll have to set more fire materia in the others before I set off the one in The Library…"

"Don't bother. Even a low level fire spell will work." He paused, the house had been at least ten years old when he was first stationed here, and he wondered how long ago that was…

"Twenty years."

He hadn't realized that he had spoken aloud.

"That's about how long it's been since ShinRa ever used this place…"

An uncomfortable silence settled around him, the very air itself seeming to thicken as he tried to wrap his mind around the idea. Twenty years--that would make him 47 years old come October; the shear amount of time was overwhelming. A year or two he had expected, maybe even five at the most—but not two decades. The most disturbing thing was that everything felt the same as it did before he was put to sleep. He was still the same height, and all his muscles were working properly, if a little slowly but that was to be expected. He could feel no sign of the fatigue that he had expected to feel when he was bordering on fifty years old; he supposed he had Hojo to thank for that, Hojo and this false body. Some of his bitterness must have shown on his face because the next thing he heard was his guide asking. "Are you alright?"

Vincent debated lying, but there really wasn't any point in it. He just shook his head in response.

"Ah." The other fell silent much to Vincent's relief. He did not want to be questioned at the moment, not when he was still coming to terms with what the scientist had done to him. As if his berserker complex and the inhuman claw wasn't bad enough. His guide suddenly stopped, the lack of his footfalls just barely enough warning for Vincent to prevent himself from running into him.

"Can you see now?"

Vincent opened his eyes, finally letting them adjust to the very dim lighting in the hallway. All he could see were shapes, but at least his eyes weren't burning anymore. "Yes, somewhat."

"Alright," His guide released his hand, and soon a movement to his right caught his eye and a small dark shadow moved toward the door. His guide's voice drifted from the shadow. "Come on."

The guide pushed the door open and slipped out. Vincent followed, taking a deep breath of the clear night air, glad to be rid of the musty, dusty, and stale air of the ShinRa mansion. The light was even dimmer outside then it was inside, the lack of illumination caused by the absence of the moon and stars. Heavy clouds filled the sky, plunging the little village into blackness. There weren't even any lights on in the villager's homes, hinting toward the fact that it was well into the nighttime hours. Vincent's guide ushered him away from the gloomy shadow of the mansion, closer to where he knew the small village of Nibelheim to be.

As soon as they cleared the long sloping lawn, Vincent paused and turned back toward the looming building. The sound that caught his attention came again, the muffled sound of materia discharging. He didn't have to wait long for its effects, a flickering red light could now be seen from between the boarded up windows of the ShinRa mansion. Vincent's sharp senses caught a faint roaring noise just before the entire place burst into flames—materia worked much faster than normal fires. He felt nothing as the place burned, only a deep-rooted sense of satisfaction. That place was a den of nightmares, a place that many people had died in. It was a place that had witnessed the most inhumane acts even possible and some that weren't, all in the name of science. The human Vincent Valentine had died in that place, and the demon had expected to follow. He should have followed. Twenty years without food, drink, or movement, would've killed even the hardiest monster, yet he was still alive.

He hated Hojo, hated everything that the man stood for, everything he represented. That man had taken the one Vincent loved, taken his life, taken his humanity, and even took away his ability to die a natural death. Vincent heard a small voice in the back of his mind, urging him to go back into the building, to burn with the mansion and erase one more thing the scientist left behind from the world. He took one-step forward but was stopped by two hands on his arm, holding tightly onto it. He looked down upon the face of his guide, illuminated by the dancing flames.

Unruly blonde hair fell into spikes around his face, shining almost golden in the firelight. Impossibly blue eyes stared out of a pale visage, the endless depths spoke of many more years than his young stature suggested. His eyes were assuredly his most unusual feature, even more so than his wild hair. Vincent could almost swear that there was a glow in those eyes, he almost chalked it up to the reflection from the fire's flames, but if he had to he would say that the boy had SOLDIER eyes. It wasn't as distinct as the SOLDIERs that Vincent had seen during his time as a Turk.

The boy had both his arms wrapped around Vincent's arm. "Don't go back. Let the memory burn with the mansion."

Vincent pulled his arm out of the boy's grasp, taking one last long lingering look at the building that had been his own personal hell for the past twenty years. It would be hard, very hard to let go of such a large part of his past, a past he would give almost anything to forget completely—an event that would never occur, no matter how deep he buried it. Regardless, he turned away from the flames and stared off into the village. Lights had begun to flicker on, the occupants of the buildings noticing the fire and coming out to investigate. The boy followed Vincent's gaze before disregarding the people, tilting his head backwards to look up into Vincent's face. The guide offered Vincent his small hand, gesturing down the hill to the village, and away from the burning building. "You have to let it go, Vincent. The past is just that, the past."

Some small part of his mind wondered how the boy had known his name, but it was pushed to the side as he took the boy's hand in his own, allowing himself to be led away from the flames that consumed the tangible reminder of his past. He almost wasn't sure if he could on his own. He followed the boy, even as the clouds opened up and spilled their heavy load onto the mountains. The cool rain splashed against his far too pale skin, pasting his long black hair against his face. The presence of the rain did not change his decision; as the flames behind him died, his resolve grew. He wouldn't—no, he couldn't forget, but he would try do as he had been asked.

The door opened and light spilled into the street, a warm yellow light that wrapped around the gunner like a blanket. His guide let go of his hand, rushing inside, and acting more like his apparent age than he had since they met. Directly inside was a small living area consisting of a round wooden table, a few chairs, and the soft luminance of an antique oil lamp. Seated at the table was a woman, she looked up at the opening of the door, pushing back from the table as the boy gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. The woman—his mother most likely—threaded her hands through his hair, hair the color of liquid gold that they both shared. She was short, a good five inches or so shorter than Vincent, and her hair was down to her back, a warm golden blonde color that so resembled his guide's.

His guide said something, gesturing to where he was standing, drawing the woman's attention to him. Vincent shrunk back when her brown eyes locked upon him, unconsciously fearing rejection for what he looked like, what Hojo had made him. She smiled and whispered something in her son's ear and he nodded, pulling away reluctantly from her grasp. Vincent hesitated when the guide motioned for him to come in, he wasn't sure if he wanted to taint such a happy scene with his presence. When he failed to receive a response from him, the boy frowned. Vincent wasn't surprised when he found his guide's hand in his own once more and didn't put up much resistance when he was led inside. For some reason it didn't seem so hard to cross the threshold when he had the guide with him; perhaps because it was concrete proof that he wanted him to enter. He soon found himself standing before the woman, and he felt uncomfortable again, attempting to hide the glimmering golden metal of his gauntlet within the folds of the red cloak he wore. His guide flashed him a quick smile. "Vincent, this is my mom."

The woman didn't even spare his arm a glance; instead, she held her own out. "Welcome to our home. Cloud told me he had a friend coming. My name is Lucia Strife."

So his name was Cloud. He finally knew his mysterious guide's name. Vincent took her offered hand hesitantly in his own. "Vincent Valentine."

"Can Vincent stay for a while, Mom?"

"If he wants too," Lucia replied, "I'll make up the guest room."

She almost seemed to glide out of the room, leaving Vincent and his guide alone. He cast a sidelong look at the boy. "Cloud, huh?"

"Sorry…I keep forgetting..." He trailed off, the warm glow in his eyes dimming with the sadness. Vincent hesitated, an action he found himself doing it a lot in the past hour. His Turk experience gave him hundreds of ways to kill a person, but it left him unable to say what he wanted to one child. He had never needed anything but his killing skills before, always moving from job to job as soon as his assignment was finished. Never before had he needed any social skills so he had never bothered to learn them, a decision that left him at a great disadvantage now. He'd only ever had two friends, one had betrayed him, and the other he hadn't seen in years. This lack of experience didn't help him at all in the current situation. "You can change that." He spoke softly, his crimson eyes regarding the wide ones of the child. Cloud smiled uncertainly, "Thanks Vincent. But I don't know if _I_ can forget."

"Don't. Just start again."

"I'll try…"

--

Vincent picked through the rubble of the ShinRa Mansion, surveying the piles of debris. Every here and there were items—usually metal in make—that had survived the fire with little to no harm, but his prediction had indeed been proven true. If it weren't for the rain, the magically induced inferno would have burnt the old and decrepit house to the ground. As it was, only the front part of the mansion was completely obliterated; the back rooms were pretty much stable, the aged wood covered with soot and had been slightly charred by the outer edges of the fire.

His boot caught on something as he maneuvered his way through the ruins, glancing down just in time to see a blackened key skitter across the ground. His lips quirked behind his mantle as he remembered the piano that had once resided in this "room", she had loved that old thing, always coming up to play it whenever she wasn't working. But now…it was gone, gone, just like her.

"_Lucrecia..."_ He breathed, turning his eyes to the overcast sky that he could see through the collapsed sections of the roof. Truthfully, the brown-haired scientist had been dead for twenty years, but to Vincent, it was still a raw wound. It hurt to think about her, but his mind kept wandering back to the woman he had once loved.

He didn't really love her, not any more. If anything, he loved his memory of her, thoughts of what might have been. It is hard to hold onto those feelings when you've been killed; all that really remains is hatred—and remorse. He hated Hojo—the man who had killed him before bringing him back as the…not quite human thing he was now. But even beyond that hate, he felt guilty, guilty for not getting Lucrecia out of the scientist's grasp when he had a chance. Guilty for not saving her child—regardless of who's the child was—from the life of experimentation Hojo had most assuredly give him.

He left the piano room, and returned to what was left of the main hall. He glanced around the fire-blackened foyer, changing his direction to approach the collapsed staircase. Surprisingly, the upper level of the house was intact; the part that had collapsed had been the front few rooms, the one over the piano room and the one containing the passage to the lab.

His eyes flickered to the stone chimney that once housed the secret passage, his enhanced gaze picking out the faint outline in the stones where the door had been, completely fused shut by the intense heat of the fire. Soon, he'd have to go down there using another passage, just to make sure that it was destroyed, but not now…not yet…

He eyed the crumbling staircase, his gaze drifting to the intact landing above it; could he get up there? Once he might have been able to, back when he was a Turk he would have been able to easily jump the landing. He had no idea how his state of inactivity had affected his physical state, but it would be better to find out now, instead of during battle. Vincent tensed his muscles and set off to the terrace at a run, before leaping effortlessly, clearing the edge of the five foot dais easily. It was too easy and he had misjudged the ease of the jump and stumbled, his claw digging into the wooden wall to prevent him from toppling over. The scorched wooden floor groaned beneath him, reminding him that the danger of it collapsing was very real.

He shook his head, freeing the metal gauntlet that served as his lower arm and hand from the wall. Luckily, the next set of stairs was still intact, so he just carefully made his way up. Vincent wasn't really feeling confident enough to attempt another jump; whatever Hojo had done to him had increased his physical performance immensely. He hadn't had much of an opportunity to find out before…before… He knew he'd fought, he knew he'd killed. Monsters, humans, but those memories were clouded with a red haze.

Upon reaching the second story of the mansion, he turned to the left, remembering something from his time before Hojo had "retired" him. There was a storeroom in the back; maybe he could find something of use in there. His weapon was missing from his holster, a very logical move for the scientist. Giving someone who wanted you dead a gun would have been rather stupid.

The hall wasn't very long, branching off into two rooms at the end. The one closest to the front had collapsed and he could easily see the unwelcoming grey of the clouds through the open door. He ignored that room, turning instead to the other. The door to the storage room was completely gone, laying in a blackened mess across the floor. He stepped into the room, wrinkling his nose when the smell of burnt flesh assaulted him. Lying sprawled out on the floor was a corpse, a corpse Vincent recognized all too well. It was the monster that Hojo had set to guard the key to Vincent's cell; the ex-Turk could remember the grotesque thing from when Hojo had tested the malformed creation. He winced, remembering the beating that the Lost Number had given him while he'd been kept weak from the drugs. He'd been given his weapon for that, but only so Hojo could laugh at the futility. He hadn't been given any material.

He kicked at the charred monster in barely contained spite, but realized something odd; usually when killed a monster would dissolve into red mist, not leave a corpse. He pondered the thought for a minute before shrugging his shoulders impassively; he never did pay much attention to the things he killed anyway. He looked away from the Lost Number and noticed the halfway open safe behind it, he gingerly stepped past the corpse and reached into the metallic case, almost hesitating when his groping fingers curled around a very familiar object. He pulled the weapon out, noting that Hojo had returned the slotted Materia in the gun after that fiasco. He traced the two orbs, feeling the energy within the glass-like sphere flare as they came back to life after a long hibernation—much like him.

There was nothing else of interest in the storeroom so he didn't see a point in staying. He slipped the silver weapon into the empty holster at his side and left the room, only too happy to be getting away from the rancid smell of burned monster. He only had one more thing to do before leveling this place for good.

Vincent made his way back downstairs, knowing that there was nothing of use left on the upper level. The edge of the dais cracked and crumbled as he leapt down, but he paid it no mind. It didn't take him long to find another passage to the basement, he had been required to memorize the layout of the building when he had been given the dubious honor of guarding Professors Hojo and Gast while they worked on the JENOVA project.

A light tap against a wall, and a rickety stairwell later, and Vincent found himself about twenty feet below ground. The stone wall slid open, letting Vincent out in a darkened hallway. He shivered involuntarily, warily taking in the scorched and blackened marks along the walls. He cautiously strode down the tunnel, eyes flickering to the gaping hole that had once been the wooden door to the room that he had been kept in. The barrier was nothing more than a pile of ashes, the lock and hinges reduced to melted pieces of scrap. The fire had been much more powerful down here since the spell had originated in the basement. He stiffly moved on passed, his enhanced vision easily piercing through the eerie gloom that settled over the dungeon.

He wondered briefly why it had taken so long for his vision to adjust the night before, granted it had been lighter then, the path glowing with hundreds of tiny mako crystals set into the walls. They had also been destroyed in the fire, plunging the cold mausoleum into utter darkness, leaving only the weak light of one or two crystals that had been spared the flames.

The hallway branched out, opening into a room that smelled faintly of chemicals and an even stronger smell of smoke. He shuddered as his wine-red gaze traveled around the room; it had been here. He had confronted Hojo here. He had questioned the insane man, demanded him to stop the project, only to be met by the barrel of a gun.

_Bang!_

Vincent jumped, whirling around in surprise. The gunshot seemed to echo off the walls, but not one shadow moved. Eventually he realized that the library was empty, the sound was all in his head, but even that realization did not halt the memory that assaulted him, the biting pain of the bullet as it bore into his flesh, and the sick feeling he got when blood poured from the wound to paint the stone floor red.

The world reeled around him and he couldn't help but let out a strangled gasp of surprise, struggling to remain on his feet, as the memory washed over him. He took irregular, shaking breaths as the flashback continued, not even his Turk training allowing him to keep his composure while he relived the moment that had ended his life.

He could see Hojo's face hovering above him, the eerie green light of the mako crystals reflecting off his glasses in a way that happened to obscure the scientist's crazed black eyes.

"_You should have stayed out of this, Vincent." _He wasn't sure if his memory was faulty or not, but he could have sworn that he heard some sense of sorrow in the doctors tone, _"Isn't it Turk policy to focus only on the job at hand?" _His vision began to fade as the flashback neared the end, the scientist's loathsome voice floating through the void, _"It's a pity…but that's what you get for trying to take away something of _mine._"_

"She was never yours." Vincent growled out, the vestiges of the memory fading away.

_If that's what you want to believe…_

The thought jerked him out of the flashback just in time, mere moments before he would have had to experience the true pain and nothingness of death once again. He righted himself, closing his eyes and taking deep, calming breaths to try to regain control of himself. The memory danced at the edge of his thoughts, refusing to silence until he forcibly buried it under the task at hand—evaluating the damage that the fire had wrought.

He turned on his heel; he couldn't stand that place anymore. One quick glance told him that the once tall piles and shelves of books had been reduced to piles of soot, ash, and charred wood, and whatever Cloud had been worried about had been destroyed. Without a second thought, he left the burnt out husk of a building, traveling down the sloping lawn to the fence that bordered the property.

_Now, to finish it, _Originally he'd just planned on finishing the job with the fire materia he'd borrowed from Cloud, but the single red orb in his gun called to drew his gun and twirled it in his fingers, somewhat comforted by the familiar weapon. Wine-red eyes closed, concentrating on what he planned to do. Thin, pale lips moved, forming the word to invoke the magic, "Bahamut."

The already unwelcoming storm clouds darkened considerably in response to his words, flashes of lightning barely visible in the near-black clumps. He pointed his gun to the sky, one of the red orbs burning brightly as its magic activated. He fired a single shot into the mass of storm clouds, the bullet shining the same red as the magic of the materia. It disappeared into the growing storm, but the effect was instantaneous.

Vincent slipped back away from the hill, into the limits of the town, just as someone looked out the window, and gave a startled exclamation about the sky.

As if moved by some great force the clouds began to swirl, drawn inward so that a disk appeared to be floating in the sky. As if suddenly brought to life lightning flashed wildly in the grey mass, and a large black shape hurtled out of the pathway formed by Vincent's magic, majestic wings flaring as the beast hovered above the remains of the house. Bahamut, the king of dragons, drew his head back, loosing a thunderous roar that seemed magnified a thousand fold by the surrounding mountain range.

The summon drew his head back again, gaping maw open wide as a pale red energy began to build between his jaws, hurling it toward the decrepit husk of the old house. The light was blinding, but Vincent didn't look away, his enhanced eyesight shifting so that he could see through the flare. The remains of the house seemed to writhe in the inferno, the remaining walls and rooms disintegrating under the dragon's magical fury.

Then as quickly as it started, it was over. The blaze died away, leaving the once green hilltop a charred and ashen black. Nothing was left of the ShinRa Mansion, and somehow Vincent knew that even the underground level was gone. The dragon hovered in the air for a few moments, great wings beating as he surveyed his handiwork. With a satisfied snort, Bahamut burst into sparkles of red light, the minute concentrations of energy being reabsorbed into Vincent's materia.

A fearful murmuring from around him drew his attention to the crowd that Bahamut's appearance had drawn. He half-turned, eyeing the other people pressed around the wrought iron fence that surrounded the now empty plot of land. A good majority of the village population (Which was not very much, less than a hundred people total) had either seen or heard the summon's arrival and had come out to investigate. He scanned the crowd briefly and was somewhat surprised that for every fear-filled face he saw, there was at least one awe-filled. He remembered somewhat that the Nibelheim villagers held a great respect for dragons of any kind, a smart state of mind considering the large population of lesser dragons that made their homes in the mountains. Luckily, the dragons tended to live higher up in the mountains and rarely ever came close enough to the town to endanger it. Hopefully they'd merely believe the incident was a marauding dragon, he didn't need them to connect the incident back to him.

Turning away from the sight he began to make his way through the streets of the town, weaving around and through the thongs of people. He was keenly aware of a few stares that focused on his back as he passed; a feeling that set his ever-watchful Turk instincts on edge. He was a stranger in a small town, it was to be expected. He relaxed slightly when he saw Cloud waiting for him in the doorway, an amused smile on his face. The boy pushed the door open for Vincent, "Even you have to admit, that was a little overkill."

Vincent shrugged as he passed, the door closing behind him, "It was satisfying."

A/N: 3/18/09: I revised it~ Not much change really, I just decided to flesh it out a bit, and hopefully fix a couple inconsistencies with Vincent's character. He gave in a bit too easily last time. I also added indentations, but apparently they don't work. Oh well.


	3. Part I Ch II: Memories

**-**

**Part 1 Chapter 2**

_**Early July - Year 2  
**Nibelheim_

**-**

"Ne, Vincent. What are you thinking about?"

The red-cloaked man glanced over his shoulder, silently regarding the blonde that moved to sit next to him at the edge of the roof. His shoulder rose and fell in an impassive shrug, dismissing the child's question. "Nothing overly important."

Cloud tilted his head to look up at his companion, eyes wide and almost luminescent in the dying light. "It doesn't seem that way to me. You look like you were remembering something."

Vincent didn't reply, letting the child form his own conclusion as he watched the village below come to life. Small lights flared in the windows as the sun sunk behind the Nibel Range, casting the peaks' large shadows over the small town. It was a restful sight, a perfect time to just sit and think. He'd allowed himself to be taken back into the past, before Hojo's betrayal and to the almost heavenly time he had spent in this little town.

"Who're you thinkin' about?"

"Hmm…?" Cloud's question surprised him, but all he allowed to show was a slight amount of curiosity, "What makes you think I'm thinking of anyone?"

"Mom gets that look sometimes, when she talks about dad." He paused, trying to find the words to explain what he saw, "You know that sad, distant look. Mom says that it means you are thinking about someone you lost."

"Your mother is a smart woman." Vincent took in a breath of air, but he still didn't answer the child's question. Cloud gave an annoyed huff, "Come on, what was she like?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"'m just curious," Cloud defended himself, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the roof, "I guess I'd just like to know more about you I s'pose."

"You just want to hear a story," said Vincent in response. Cloud loved stories, and often bugged Lucia and the other adults to tell them to him. He usually wanted tales about battle and glory; it was strange for him to be asking about a different topic. He wouldn't really mind talking about her, it didn't hurt so much anymore, and he could understand that Cloud wanted to know more about him. In fact, he was surprised that the curious boy hadn't asked before.

Cloud blushed at Vincent's accusation and began to defend himself. He was stopped by Vincent's next motion, moving out of his loose crouch and into a more relaxed seated position. He pulled one knee up to his chest and swung the other over the ledge. "It's a long story, and one I'm not really in the mind to tell." He looked away from the disappointment that settled over Cloud's features, he didn't like to talk about the past. If he did, he would be drawn back into the guilt that lurked in every mention of her name, drawn back to the anger and terror at every thought of him. One year was not enough to bury all the skeletons in his closet, and until they were truly dead and gone, he wouldn't be willing to talk about them. It had only been recently that he had come to a tentative peace with himself, and allowed himself to settle down in this small village. He was healing, little by little, but he wasn't willing to take more than one step at a time.

"You worked for ShinRa, right?" Cloud asked after giving Vincent some time to himself. If he couldn't hear about whomever he had been thinking about, then he would try something else out. He was itching for a story, wanting to see if the faint images he could vaguely recall would fit with the dark man's story. It had been something bothering him since he had found Vincent, but it was a topic he hadn't been willing to breach. The stoic man did not talk about his past very often, if at all.

"I used to be a member of the Turks." The sharpshooter answered after a short deliberation. He doubted the boy would leave him alone if he didn't humor him, at least now the topic wasn't near as sore. Vincent's lips turned down slightly in a confused frown, looking at a faint flash of serious emotion playing across the boy's face. It wasn't uncommon for such moments to occur, but he always found it disconcerting. Cloud looked like a pre-teenager, and even acted like one most of the time. But it was these moments that made him think of someone far older. He did wonder what instigated these moments, it was unusual for a boy his age.

"Really? I want to get into SOLDIER when I get older." The blonde kicked his feet lightly in the air, "I don't really know why, but I just feel like I gotta." He tilted his head up to the sky, watching as the many stars began to twinkle into existence, "I had a dream about it once; but I failed the exam and it turned out to be a nightmare. Maybe that's the reason I want to join; to prove my dream wrong."

The boy trailed off and shook off the serious air he had adopted during his short speech. The bright smile returned to its customary place, impressing the former Turk with the ease of the transition, "But it doesn't matter. I'm gonna be a SOLDIER First Class one day…maybe even meet General Sephiroth…"

Sephiroth…the name set off a faint warning bell in his head. What was it? Why did the name give him a sense of urgency? Why did it remind him of _her_? He was about to ask Cloud about this 'Sephiroth' but stopped when he heard the sound of someone climbing up the ladder propped against the back of the house. The creaking wood drew his attention, causing him to set aside the question for another time. A head full of blond hair, followed by stern brown eyes rose over the edge of the rooftop, "Cloud! Get down here; it's time for you to go to bed!"

"What? Mom! I barely got to hear the story!" He looked pleadingly at his impassive companion, hoping that Vincent would be willing to help him. His spirit sunk at the 'eye-smile' that he could see shining in the ex-Turk's eyes, and he knew that there was a small smirk that broke the blank countenance hiding beneath the red mantle. "Go on kid, I'll tell you more another time.."

Cloud grumbled to himself but complied. The child paused before descending the latter, "Can I have one last question?"

Vincent half-turned to look at the boy before shrugging, there really wasn't any reason why he couldn't. Of course, he hadn't really been expecting what the boy asked next.

"The person you were thinking of, did you love her?"

He just barely prevented a flinched at the question, his eyes narrowing minutely. Lucia called up the ladder once more, having reached the bottom only to find that Cloud had not followed her. Cloud took the resulting silence as his answer, knowing he had gone too far in his prying. The next time his mother called up the ladder he responded not making a fuss about following his mother's voice into the house.

Of all the things, he hadn't been expecting that. It had thrown him off target, and caused him to do exactly as he didn't want to do. His gaze traveled out to the city again, or more specifically drawn to the still blackened hilltop at the edge of the village. At the same time his thoughts traveled inward, unwillingly calling up images and memories that would be better put to rest.

He'd admitted the truth to himself before, but never aloud. He'd never gotten a chance to tell her, having locked it away under lock and key once he saw her with Hojo. She'd looked so happy then, the depth of her emotion so great that he didn't have the heart to burden her with his own feelings. He had kept them to himself and decided not to interfere with the newly formed couple. That resolution had been scrapped when he discovered what he'd been doing to her…

He sighed, closing his eyes in an attempt to banish the thoughts that kept straying back to her. He thought he'd gotten over her, put her ghost to rest when he first decided to try and make something of the cursed existence he had been granted. It didn't seem to be the case if it still affected him this long afterwards. She'd been a part of his past, and held no place in his future. She was dead and gone; he knew that trying to hold onto her would only end up getting himself hurt.

His crimson-colored eyes blinked open, and he noticed that night had completed settling over the world. He regarded the small village with mixed feelings, this place had many good memories of her, but it also held bad memories of him. Voices cut through the haze of recollection, the familiar sounds drifting up from the half-opened door at the foot of the ladder. He heard Cloud's annoyed complaining and Lucia's chiding responses, and felt his lips curl into a small smile. Perhaps it was time to set aside the haunting images he both loved and loathed, replace them with memories of the now, of Lucia and Cloud. He felt closer to the both of them than he ever had felt with anyone else, save Lucrecia herself. Neither of them knew anything about his past, nor did they press him for it. Cloud sometimes wanted a story, but he always stopped if Vincent asked him to. It was just a quiet acceptance, one that the last shreds of his humanity had latched onto.

They treated him as a part of the family and looking out for them had become as important to him as Lucrecia once had been. At first, he had only been planning to stay a few days, then leave town to enact his revenge on Hojo. Those days turned to a week, and then to a month. Now, it had been exactly a year since he arrived at the Strife household, and he no longer felt any desire to leave the quaint village. Thoughts of Hojo still sent him into a dangerous mood, but his desire for revenge had dwindled away to almost nothing. As long as that scientist never reentered his life, maybe he could actually live like a relatively normal person. He'd never had a chance to, not since he'd left Kalm to join the Turks.

And so he just sat there long into the night, looking up at the stars as if they would tell him just what he should do. Was he really willing to give up her memory? He didn't know. Would he be able to move on if he chose not to? Most certainly not.

When he decided to head back inside it was already well into the next morning. The door was still open, the light filtering though the doorframe, inviting him in.

_-Midgar-_

Despite his rather mysterious nature, Sephiroth, the General of ShinRa's Elite SOLDIER Unit, was a very predictable man. He was always found in the same place at a given time. From early morning to well in to the evening one could find him in his office, tackling pile after pile of paperwork regarding statistics, reports, assignments, and whatever else the bureaucracy of ShinRa decided to dump on him. He only ever left when the administration required him to attend a meeting, was summoned to the labs for testing, or was required by the higher ups to be present at some function or another, and these were usually planned well ahead of time. Even his training sessions were scheduled, two hours of hard practicing between his departure from his office and the arrival at his own quarters. He didn't really mind too much, he felt safe within the confines of his structured life. It was familiar, and he'd probably be lost if it were taken away, he'd grown up with routine and timetables as far back as he could remember.

His reactions to things were also extremely predictable. To those around him, whether they were President ShinRa himself or a lowly Grunt, they only saw one thing, nothing. Sephiroth was always blank, his eyes cold and his mouth set in a thin line. He never smiled, never laughed, never scowled. His reports and orders were delivered in a monotone, and he never spoke unless necessary. He didn't have friends, didn't have any type of companion at all. It wasn't through any lack of his own; there were plenty of people who would love to take up the mantle of "The General's Friend" or "The General's Lover" whether it was for his position, or his beauty.

He was definitely an oddity, with his waist length hair that glimmered like spun silver and softly glowing green eyes. Many females and even a few males would give an arm and a leg to claim the General in all his ethereal glory. However, if the stoic man ever had any desire to take such a companion, he'd never shown it.

Sephiroth was the trump card in ShinRa's military, having been genetically "enhanced" since before his birth. He was far stronger, faster, and more intelligent than the even the mako-injected members of SOLDIER. Indeed, many people even doubted he was human after he single-handedly ended the Wutai War, plowing through the country's military and decimating it with the same empty look on his face, not even flinching at the swath of death he had dealt. He'd been placed in charge of the SOLDIER Unit almost immediately afterwards by President ShinRa himself and it hadn't been much of a surprise to him. He'd been raised and trained by Professor Hojo under President ShinRa's watchful eye for that very purpose. Fighting was all he knew how to do, knowing nothing else but his training all twenty years of his life.

He was untouchable, unmovable, and unchangeable. He was the role model of every new recruit to enter the program, and the worst fear of ShinRa's enemies. The company exploited his talents, using his image to draw in even more recruits and the threat of his involvement to ward off rebellion against the company's iron-fisted grip over the entire Eastern Continent. The sad thing was that he didn't care at all.

It was an empty existence, but it was all he had ever known. He never strove for anything more, because he never knew there was anything more. Professor Hojo had kept him isolated in his lab for the first fifteen years until he'd been needed to end the war. He hadn't understood the complexity of human emotion so he did the next best thing, he blocked it out completely. He would have been perfectly content living out the rest of his days knowing nothing but the adrenaline of battle and the void of peace, blissfully unaware of the world that waited just out of his reach.

Of course, fate had other plans. The General of ShinRa was a key player in future events and it would not do to just let him languish in nothingness. It would only be a matter of time until that very world smacked him in the face, courtesy of one Zachary Fair.

It hadn't been a spectacular day, but it was one that Sephiroth would remember for the rest of his life. He'd become inexplicably restless, and staring at the paper had done nothing to relieve it. He'd been contemplating leaving his office early—for the first time in his life—to work off the frustration in a set of long, hard, mind-numbing sword katas when there happened to be an unexpected knock on his door. A flicker of irritation flared in the void of his soul, but it quickly withered away under the nothingness that was the general's existence.

Keeping his voice even and flat he told the person to enter, folding his arms on the cold wood of his desk as he watched the man with polite disdain. It took him mere moments to recognize the man, his photographic memory pulling up the file that he had long since memorized about every person he had to come in contact with on a semi-regular basis. Jiro Kimura, SOLDIER First Class. He was considered by many to be the liaison between the general and the normal ranks as well as his official job as messenger boy between the ShinRa Executives and the Military Office. His eye twitched minutely when he noticed that the man before him did not exactly fit the picture that he kept in his mental file, requiring him to perform a reexamination. Broad muscled build, wide neck, brown eyes, long black hair—oh, that was it. The formerly shoulder length hair had been cut by about two or three inches and now stopped just below his ears. He dutifully updated the image in his file while waiting for the man to get on with his business.

Kimura fidgeted uneasily under the general's gaze as he pulled to mind what he had to say, "Due to the i-increase in workload that has been delegated to the General's desk, President ShinRa has authorized the appointment of a "General's Aide"—"

"No."

Kimura was taken aback by the sudden interruption, "E-excuse me?"

"I do not need an Aide." This time his hand twitched, moving slightly toward where the Masumane, his sword, was leaning against the edge of his desk. If Kimura didn't relent, he'd just have to take care of the Aide himself. In his experience, the best way to get rid of someone was to slit his or her throat.

"You have no choice, General. He has been appointed by Heidegger and is currently waiting out in the hallway."

He couldn't kill him then, mores the pity. If he did, he'd have to listen to Heidegger whine and rave and carry on before assigning him another Aide—this one most likely even worse than the last. He closed his eyes, "Send him in."

He heard the man open and close the door, followed by muffled voices from the other side. His eyes opened his eyes once the door opened again, immediately taking note of the rather short person that entered. The first thing he noticed was spikes, many spikes. The boy's—for the person was indeed a boy, not even out of his teens yet—black hair fell in unruly spikes away from his face, giving one the impression that he had a hedgehog on top of his head. Large cobalt eyes—and under the light they seemed to have a slightly purple tinge—stood out from a lightly tanned face, seeming to spark in mischief as his hand came to his forehead in a crisp salute. The boy wasn't built in the same category Kimura was, but the stance and the slightly bulky muscles informed the general that the boy was indeed from a part of the military and not a desk job as he had previously thought. He opened his mouth to demand the person's name and rank, but the boy beat him to it.

"Private Zack Fair at your service, ranked SOLDIER Third Class, General-sir."

The boy had the nerve to speak unbidden to him, an act that caused Sephiroth's fingers to twitch. It didn't matter that he had answered his questions; a low class soldier was not supposed to speak to his superior officer without permission. He suppressed the urge to wrap his hands around that thin throat for the private's cheek. Nevertheless, he couldn't. Blessed be the man who resists temptation, plus Heidegger wouldn't be pleased.

"So, General-sir, when do I begin work?"

The flippant tone in the SOLDIER's voice caused another sense of irritation to flare. The action was very tempting now. Somehow, he knew that this Aide would give him a headache before too long.

A/N: Second Chapter, as promised to a certain someone. I had to rewrite a good portion of it, mostly because I noticed some OOC moments...I want a beta! ;-;. I don't think this(or the rest of the story, for that matter) is anywhere near as good as the first chapter...

On a side note, I am disregarding every Final Fantasy Seven game/thingy beyond the original. That means no Last Order or Crisis Core, or Dirge of Cerebus (which is very fun by the way, even for a shooting gamewhich I normally stink at...). Even the original will be warped, after all, the whole point of this story is an attempt at rewriting the past, ne?


	4. Part I Ch III: Determined Resolutions

-

**Part 1 Chapter 3**

_Mid January - Year 3_

_Midgar_

-

Zachary Fair, a newly promoted SOLDIER Second Class, hated office work. He would much rather be out in the field killing monsters, fighting rebels, or even just doing plain old ordinary guard duty. Unfortunately, due to his dubious position as the "General's Aide", it was very unlikely that he would be called away on an assignment more than four times a month, perhaps less if the general had a mission of his own. If Sephiroth were called out on a mission then it would leave Zack with _all_ the paperwork. Nothing ever got done on those days since Sephiroth was the only one that actually made good time with the humongous load. Whatever wasn't done spilled over into the next day's work, which slowed the entire office down for a few days until it was all caught up. It goes without saying that the general had been getting increasingly irritated by his subordinate's lack of progress and had repeatedly requested a replacement—if he had to have an Aide, they should actually do some of the work. Heidegger hadn't quite laughed at the request, but he had enjoyed declining it immensely.

Zack himself wouldn't have minded being transferred back to the active units—it would mean more missions. Nevertheless, he did not really have much to complain about with his posting, he was paid more than the average recently promoted 2nd Class and given quarters in the First Class Barracks (which were much larger than the Second/Third Barracks plus you got the entire quarters to yourself! No roommates!). Sometimes he was frustrated by Sephiroth's quiet nature, but he had long since taken it upon himself to crack the general's icy shell.

Between the two of them, they eventually settled into some semblance of a working partnership. Zack would file stuff that needed to be filed while Sephiroth did the rest. The general didn't really mind doing most of the work, because he'd been doing it before Heidegger got it into his head to assign him an Aide. Moreover, filing kept Zack quiet.

Over time, Zack began to notice a weekly anomaly in the General's usual dawn-till-dusk routine. Every Wednesday he left the office early, leaving Zack to deal with whatever work was left at that point. The Second Class didn't think too much of it, he figured that Sephiroth used the time for extra training or something. He didn't have any reason to think otherwise, until now.

Zack sighed in relief as he finished the final papers, leaning back in Sephiroth's chair and stretching his arms. His gaze passed over the clock on the wall, an action that caused him to snap back and take another check, "Wha? Ten o'clock already?"

He shook his head at the amount of work Seph had left him with, usually he was gone long before now. He rose from the chair, leaning over and straightening up the papers on the desk. There was no reason to leave them messy; it would just get Sephiroth mad at him. While Zack enjoyed the fact that he was the only one who could actually get a reaction out of the cold man, he didn't enjoy being on the receiving end of his anger.

It only took a few minutes before Zack was out of the room, locking the door behind him as he took off down the hall of the Administration building. He smiled and waved at a few of the night owls, getting one or two greetings back in return. One such person stopped him in his trek for a few minutes, "Hey Zack, why are you working so late?"

"It's Seph's off day I guess, he left me a load of work to do." Zack ignored the startled look he got from the other worker. No one ever called the general anything but "General", "Sephiroth", or the occasional "sir". Of course, Zack wasn't just anyone. Even Sephiroth had given up on trying to correct him and grudgingly accepted the nickname. It could've been so much worse, and it would've been, knowing Zack's limitless imagination and knack for annoying him.

"I saw the general just a little while ago, he didn't look very good."

"Really?" Zack tilted his head curiously, "Where?"

"He was getting off of the lift from ShinRa HQ. I think he was headed back to the dorms."

"Thanks, I'll ask him about it tomorrow." He yawned, belatedly covering his mouth with a gloved hand, "'m too tired to go looking for him right now."

After saying goodbye to the night worker Zack continued through the halls of the administrative department, exiting the building and heading into the night-shrouded compound.

--

It would be a while before Sephiroth awoke, and the first thing that he noticed was that he was not in his own apartment. He couldn't quite pinpoint what first brought him to that conclusion, it could've been a slight smell in the air, not necessarily unpleasant but different from the constant sterilized odor his own rooms held. It could've been the furniture he was laying on; the texture and feel completely alien from what he was used to. But the thing that really tipped him off was the sound of someone else's breathing.

His eyes snapped open, and he found himself looking up at an off-white ceiling. Sephiroth propped himself up on his elbows, the blanket that had been covering him slipping off his shoulders and pooling down around his waist.

"You're up…" He wasn't too surprised to hear Zack's voice, turning his head to see the cobalt eyed SOLDIER coming out of another room and sitting down in a small armchair. The general frowned, the action nothing more than a tightening of his lips. "How did I get here?"

"That's what I'd like ta know. I found ya unconscious outside in the hall. I knew I couldn't carry ya upstairs to your own room so I just brought ya in here." The younger man raked his fingers through his hair uneasily. "What happened?"

Sephiroth stiffened, and turned his gaze away from the Second Class. "It's none of your business."

Zack pursed his lips angrily; couldn't the idiot see that he was worried about him? He'd never seen the General the way he had been last night, all of his guards dropped and so completely vulnerable. Frankly, it had—and still did—give him a good scare. Sephiroth had looked like death warmed over, the silver-white strands of his hair only serving to sharpen the unhealthy pallor of his skin. For a moment, Zack had even entertained the thought that he was dead, but quickly discarded it when he noticed the soft but shallow breaths that had been moving the general's chest. He hadn't been expecting a full explanation, but he had been hoping for something. "Does it have anything to do with your leaving early every Wednesday?"

The general ignored him, rising from the couch and heading for the door. He paused in the entryway, glancing somewhat impassively over his shoulder. "Do not worry, Fair, I'll be well enough to do my duties tomorrow."

"I don't care about the damned paperwork!" Zack slammed his fist against the wall, the force of the impact and the noise most likely waking up whoever dwelled in the apartment beside him. Cobalt eyes hardened, "I'm worried about _you_, idiot. It had to have really been something to take you down."

Sephiroth shrugged, "I'll be fine after a few hours; I always am."

Zack sighed, accepting what he could get from the stoic man. He knew that pushing any further would just make him angry, "Fine, you win. I won't ask ya' anymore. But, if it ever happens again, my door's open for you."

Sephiroth nodded after a moment of hesitation. He was about the leave when his subordinate stood up and strode over, "One more thing, and call me Zack okay?"

"Alright…Zack"

Despite the somewhat odd circumstances, Zack felt his chest warm at the use of his first name. He watched the general leave, most likely heading up to his own rooms to get ready for another day of work. Sephiroth hadn't declined his offer, which meant he had some hope of getting through to the person beneath all of the General's ice. The thought made up for the tiring, worry filled night.

_-Nibelheim-_

It was strange, not being in the mountains. He'd gotten so used to their desolate peaks and empty passes that the wide openness of the plains made him feel skittish, vulnerable. He didn't like the sensation; he didn't like it at all. He wondered, and not for the first time, why the Head had deemed it necessary to assign him to another patrol. Howard had told him something about an abnormal amount of Nibel Wolves in the plains to the southeast, but the only monsters they had encountered were easily handled by the original patrol.

Overall, he considered the entire thing a waste of his time. The chatter of the hunting party ahead of him had been grating on his nerves all afternoon, and he couldn't wait until they were back in the village. One person he could handle, even two were fine, but the five men in the patrol he'd been assigned to were just too much. He grit his teeth, focusing on the soft grinding sound to try to tune out his companions. He made a resolution that he wouldn't ever leave the Northern Patrol again, even if Howard had insisted on assigning another person to it. Fear of the mountains had escalated after Meire's death, and the Head had tried to appease the village folk by upping the number of people in the parties.

Vincent sighed in relief as the group entered the town limits; he wouldn't have to put up with them much longer. They just had to report to Howard and then he'd be free for the rest of the day.

"Valentine!" He was surprised to see Malachie coming toward him, the man had pretty much avoided him since Cale's death the year before. He didn't like the worried look on the other man's face and dropped back away from the main group. "What is it?"

"Cloud and Tifa are up in the mountains!"

Vincent stiffened, "Why hasn't anyone gone to get them?" Tifa Lockheart was the mayor's daughter and lived next door to the Strifes. He didn't know her very well, but Cloud talked about her sometimes. She was often seen around town with her friends, a group of three other children from the surrounding houses. They especially liked to hang out around Zangan's Dojo, and Cloud had once told him that Tifa studied under the martial arts master. Nevertheless, no matter how skilled the girl was, she was too young and inexperienced to survive in the monster-infested mountains for long; the same was true for Cloud.

"We just found out a few moments ago, her other friends came back and told us that she was planning to go past Mt. Nibel and that Cloud had followed her. Howard sent me to get you, because you know the mountains better than any of us." Almost every patrol he went on was into the mountains; as a result, Vincent knew the hills and caves like the back of his hand.

Vincent grit his teeth, why hadn't the people taking his patrol stopped the girl before she even left the town? Children were not allowed out of the village limits without a parent or other adult. He decided not to wait around for Malachie to explain anymore, he knew where they were headed—Mt. Nibel—and he knew a few shortcuts that would get him there a lot faster than the main trail. He could only hope he could overtake them before they got too far into Dragon territory; while no dragon had been spotted since the Blue, the upper peaks were infested with them.

--

"Tifa stop! It's dangerous out here!" Cloud desperately tried to get the girl to turn back, but she wouldn't listen. She staggered as the rotten bridge swayed in the wind, her hands clinging onto the rope support for dear life. Even then, she did not turn back, only giving the boy a tear filled glare.

"Leave me alone Cloud. Momma's on the other side of the mountains; I have to go find Momma!"

The boy shouted out a rapid denial, stamping his foot against the rocky ground to emphasize his point, "Do you want to die, Lockheart? 'Cause that will be the only thing you'll do if you cross that bridge. Its suicide and you know it!" Cloud stood by the beginning of the rope bridge, in between the two wooden posts that were the hanging bridge's only support. Tifa was already over halfway out, her forward progress halted by the haphazard movement of the walkway.

A sudden gust of wind howled through the rocky ravine, knocking the hysterical girl to her knees as the wood beneath her rocked even harder. She couldn't help the tears welling up in her brown eyes, traveling down her face to join the dried stains that she had formed when news of her mother's death had come to her. Her knuckles were turning white from holding onto the ropes so hard, fearing that if her grip slackened she would be thrown off into the seemingly bottomless chasm. She didn't want to die; she had to see Momma again.

"Tifa!" Cloud cried out, darting onto the dancing planks with little to no concern for his own safety. He had to get Tifa out of here; the bridge would collapse if much more strain was put on the ropes. Unfortunately, he didn't factor in the added weight of one thirteen year old boy. He had barely gone two steps when he felt the wood behind him give, and he just barely heard the sound of the ropes snapping over the roar of the wind through the narrow crevice that made up the ravine, "Tifa!"

He was thrown back as the bridge fell out from beneath him, landing roughly on the stone edge of the crevice. He teetered on the brink, mind half-numbed with shock, only to be saved by someone's grip on his shirt; lifting him up as the unmistakable hum of magic filled the air. Cloud didn't look to see who had caught him; his eyes were riveted on the figure of the unconscious girl floating gently toward him, buoyed in what appeared to be a tiny whirlwind. The swirling cloud deposited her gently onto the ground before fading away, taking the low thrumming with it.

"She'll be fine."

Cloud didn't react to the soft-spoken reassurance, making no move as he continued to stare at Tifa's prone form, watching the shallow rise and fall of her chest. The wind in the valley began to howl again, tossing about lose strands of her brown hair as the magic's influence died; giving nature free reign once more. The grip on his shirt loosened, and his slack muscles gave him a one-way ticket to the hard surface of the mountainside as soon as the person supporting him let go.

"I knew it would happen…" His voice was hollow, echoing with the surety of his words. He couldn't bring himself to believe that she had been saved from her own stupidity, and that he wouldn't wake up to find himself a permanent addition to the landscape. There was a shift of cloth behind him, before his rescuer reached down to help him up again, all without saying a word.

--

"Why were you two up there?"

It had been the first thing they had spoken since they had returned to the village, dropping off the fainted, but perfectly safe, Tifa Lockheart at her home with her hysterical father. Cloud didn't acknowledge the speaker, continuing to stab and thrust violently at opponents only he could see. The wooden sword, the original long since scrapped and replaced, wove and danced through the air, calming the boy with the focus required in such an action.

"Cloud?"

He paused in mid-swing, tearing his gaze away from his imaginary target to look at Vincent. The cloaked man had refused to leave the boy alone once they'd returned Tifa to her home, and Cloud hadn't really cared about the company. He just wanted to sort out the jumble of thoughts in his head; what better way to do so than mindless practicing? Vincent didn't like to talk much anyway, so Cloud had been able to ignore his presence up until the present.

The brief respite didn't last long, the wooden weapon continuing along its path and moving into the motions of one of the few katas that Cloud had managed to pick up watching Zangan's weapons classes. Vincent sighed and shook his head, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. Cloud had been acting strange since his last vague words at Mt. Nibel. "_I knew it would happen" _What had he known would happen, the bridge collapsing?

"…I tried to stop her…"

Cloud hadn't ceased his movements. If anything, the attacks were coming even harder and faster as he let loose all the frustration that had been roiling inside him.

"I knew what she would try to do. I thought that maybe, since I knew, I could stop her from getting hurt. But _nothing's changed!_"

He spun around, the next strike hitting a tree trunk with a loud, furious, thud. Then another, and another, the bark coming off in flakes and fluttering to the forest floor.

"If you hadn't come, she would've been severely hurt, or worse! I couldn't have done anything but take the blame for the entire thing…What good is knowing if you can't do a darn thing about it?!"

"Cloud…"

The boy just proceeded, his wooden weapon beginning to splinter and crack as he continued to pound against the trunk, the words seeming to pour out in one huge rush now that the dam had been breeched, "If I can't even change such a small event, then how can I be sure that _it_ won't happen? What if burning the Library wasn't enough? What if there were copies floating around somewhere? I wouldn't be able to do anything if he got a hold of those; if I stay here, I wouldn't even know until it was far too late."

Vincent kept his comments to himself, completely left in the dust by Cloud's monologue. The boy did seem to be talking more to himself then to Vincent, which would be a good thing considering he had no idea what the blond-haired boy was talking about. He understood the reference to the day of his Awakening, but he never did find out what Cloud had been hoping to accomplish with the action. He hadn't asked, the slightest mention of that place sent Cloud into a brooding silence, but he had still tried to puzzle out the answer on his own.

_Crack._

The sword splintered, the blade snapping in half as it made contact with the trunk, the loud sound followed by Cloud's cry of pain as he dropped the ruined sword to the ground. Vincent was at his side within the next few seconds, taking the child's hand into his and inspecting the damage. The wrist was starting to swell, and he could see a few painful looking splinters embedded in the pale flesh, "It looks like you sprained it…"

Vincent tore a strip of cloth from his cloak, using it as a makeshift bandage and wrapping it tightly around the area, but not tight enough to cut off the circulation. He'd have to wait until they got back home to put it on ice, but at least the makeshift bandage would prevent Cloud from moving it too much or jarring it accidentally, "Your grip was too tight, and you were putting too much pressure on the sword. If you are going to keep this up, you should join the classes."

Cloud wasn't listening; instead, he looked up at Vincent with a new resolve in his eyes. He cradled his hand to his chest before making his declaration. The sharpshooter faltered mid-step, he'd just started back to the village when Cloud spoke, "…come again?"

"I'm gonna join SOLDIER." Cloud looked off into the distance; the afternoon sun would be nearing the mountain peaks soon, deepening the light grey-ish purple to black, "As soon as I turn fourteen I'm going."

"…why?"

Cloud didn't look back at him, instead the boy started walking, heading back down the path that led directly to the village gates. When he answered, Vincent had almost missed it, only his years of training allowing him to catch and decipher the softly spoken sounds.

"What is the point of knowing, if you do nothing?"

What was Cloud talking about? Vincent couldn't answer.

A/N: Sorry, a Naruto roleplay guild took over my life. I forgot all about my fanfics . Yes there are some references to the sidestory in here, it is supposed to take place in between this chapter and the last. I'll get it up eventually, as a separate story. You'd get to find out more about Malachie and Meire, fun ne?

Anywho, next chapter Cloud heads off to Midgar. Fun, right?


	5. Part I Ch IV: Partings and Secrets

_Part 1 Chapter 4_

August 20th - Year 3

-

"Mom, do you know where my ID is?"

"No Cloud, did you check your wallet?" Lucia poked her head into her son's room, grimacing at the disaster area it had become. Clothes and other assorted possesions had been thrown everywhere in her son's haste to pack. An open duffle bag was placed on the bed, almost full to the brim with Cloud's worldly possessions. Lucia turned her attention away from the disaster area, resisting the urge to tidy it up a little bit. Cloud was currently rummaging through his closet, making even more of a mess.

"I looked there already. Will they take me if I don't have it?" He turned to look at his mother, pausing in his search and retrieve mission. She shook her head in response, "You know that ShinRa isn't picky. They'll take anyone." She paused, meeting her son's blue gaze with her own, "Are you sure about doing this?"

"Yes," He sighed, stopping to run a hand through his wild hair, "I am positive."

"Good luck then…" She backed out of the room, continuing down the hall with the load of laundry she needed to wash. Halfway down the hall she ran into Vincent. Lucia smiled warmly up at him, it had been three years since the man had come to stay with them and he had long since found his niche in the Strife household. He had fallen into his role as the older brother, silently watching out for the family and doing what he could to improve their lives. Lucia had even begun to see the gunner as her own son, despite the fact that he was a good ten years her senior. Something about him just called to her, appealing to her motherly instincts. Perhaps, in the brooding form of the ex-Turk, she had seen a lost child, one who has been alone far too long.

Vincent glanced down the hall, his attention drawn by the noise coming from Cloud's room. He had just returned from the his work as a border guard, and because of that he had been away for the majority of the day and was just now noticing the young boy's actions, "Is something happening today?"

Lucia sighed, balancing the laundry basket on her hip, "Well, as you know Cloud turned fourteen yesterday… He's… got it into his head that he could join SOLDIER…and I don't have the heart to say no to him."

Vincent stiffened, his gaze roaming down the hall again, "I'll try to talk to him."

-

"Cloud…"

"Hmm…?" He glanced up from the pile he was rooting through, "Oh, hey Vincent. Back so soon?"

The gunner crossed his arms, leaning lightly against the doorframe, "I see you are still going through with it."

Cloud grimaced, leaning back against the edge of his bed; he had known that this conversation was coming. It was inevitable, especially considering who employed the SOLDIERs. "What about it?"

"I thought you hated ShinRa."

"I do." Cloud's answer was without hesitation. Why would he hesitate? It was a pure and simple fact. Everyone in the village knew that Cloud Strife hated ShinRa, he was not afraid to voice the fact either. Vincent had not been too surprised when he discovered it, he even agreed with the blonde's opinion, Hojo worked for ShinRa after all. That was why Cloud's decision to join SOLDIER came as such a surprise to the ex-Turk; he could not understand why Cloud was suddenly jumping at the chance to join the corporation he disliked so much. He looked down at him and asked that very question, "Why then?"

Cloud sighed, running a hand through his hair in an unconscious gesture he had developed over the years. He closed his eyes as he searched for the right words to say, cutting off the unnerving glow that had long since puzzled the gunner. Vincent had done a little research on the phenomenon over the years, learning that the glow really was mako. Cloud had been born with higher mako levels than most children and it manifested in a faint green light akin to what ShinRa's SOLDIERs possess. After a few moments of tense silence Cloud responded, "It's just something I feel like I have to do…"

Cloud was being vague again. The last time he asked, the answer he had received had been no better. He got that tone in his voice, the one that suggested that he knew a secret that the world did not know. There were things in his guide's eyes, things that Vincent could see when Cloud did not know he was being watched. The ex-Turk hated to see the pain that he could see haunting the teenager, it reminded him too much of his own eyes, eyes that had seen too many dark things. Cloud always seemed so optimistic and cheerful, but he never fooled Vincent. Vincent always watched him, watched him when his guide was not aware. He saw the distance he put between himself and the other children; he saw the indifference with which he regarded their teasing. He acted nothing like he thought children should act. He tried for his mom, but even Lucia had seen a difference in her only son and it worried her. She had confided with Vincent once, not too long after the bridge incident, that she did not know her own son anymore.

"One day," She had said, "He just woke up different. The day before he had been a normal boy, if somewhat reclusive and fixated on that Lockhart girl, but normal nonetheless. The next day, he was different. He was tossing and turning that morning, I thought it was just a bad dream so I woke him. He stared up at me, and the fear and pain in his eyes did not go away when he saw me like they usually do."

"Instead they seemed to intensify. At first, I thought he was afraid of _me_. Then he looked up at me and whispered 'Mom…?' with so much confusion and so much hope in his eyes, as if he could not believe that I was there. Then he just clung to me and cried, like he was afraid I'd disappear if he let me go."

"I don't know what he saw that night, but it changed him. The first thing he did after that was set fire to the mansion. He doesn't think I know what he did, he doesn't think I notice that glow in his eyes, or the way he looks at things. As if it's all a dream and he's afraid to wake up."

Vincent had seen this very expression in the mirror, he knew he wore it every time he came back from a hunt; came home to find Lucia cooking dinner and Cloud's enthusiastic questions. He was always afraid that it would end; that he would wake up to find Hobo's face hovering over him. However, it had not disappeared. Vincent had dared to believe, that perhaps he was finally free from his hell and from the devil that sent him there. He wished he could know what devil haunted his guide, perhaps that answer lay in Midgar, "…Nothing I can say will stop you, will it?"

"No…" Cloud sighed, "We've gone over this all ready…"

"I didn't think so." Vincent pushed himself away from the doorframe, his crimson cloak swishing behind him as he turned away from his guide. He glanced over his shoulder, his gaze falling into impossibly blue eyes, "Be careful Cloud."

He swept out of the room, completely missing Cloud's murmured reply, "I know…Believe me, I know."

-

Lucia set her cup of tea down on the table, watching the dark-haired figure that entered the room and pulled out a chair, "Cloud is leaving for Midgar tomorrow…"

"I know." Vincent tilted his head toward the ceiling, trying to focus on anything but the small woman, "I couldn't change his mind."

"I didn't expect you to. If there is one word to describe Cloud, it is determined. It's just," She stirred her tea calmly; "I worry about him. Midgar is supposed to be a tough city and SOLDIER training is supposed to be brutal. I suppose what I'm trying to ask is…"

Vincent waved his human hand, cutting her off in mid sentence, "I know. You want me to go with him and watch him don't you?"

Lucia laughed; the bell-like sound somewhat tense, and most certainly forced. "You've gotten good at reading me. So, will you?"

"What about you?"

Lucia just waved off his barely veiled concern, "It'll be a bit tight but I'll manage. Cloud is the one heading into ShinRa territory, not me."

"ShinRa is another reason why I'm hesitant to go." He lowered his gaze, laying his metal limb across his lap, "I do not…have a very good past with the company."

He sunk back into his chair, his long black hair hanging over his face, "But…I guess I could go."

"You can't just let him—wait, you said yes?" Lucia was confused. She had been ready to fight tooth and nail to get Vincent to go with Cloud, so she hadn't been expecting the gunman's easy acquiescence. It had thrown her off balance, leaving her gaping in shock at the man who sat across the table from her.

"I wouldn't feel comfortable with Cloud going to that city alone." The dark-haired man said, "Most of the danger doesn't originate from the city itself, but the company that runs it. It would be more prudent to be nearby if anything happens."

"So you will?"

"Of course; the only question now is how."

-Midgar-

"Gees Seph…you look awful…"

Sephiroth grimaced as Zack ducked under the General's arm, steadying the much taller man against him, and slipping one arm about Sephiroth's waist to keep him balanced, "Thanks a lot…Fair…"

Zack slowly led the silver-haired general inside his dorm, being extra careful to keep the disoriented SOLDIER's balance. Sephiroth's world was spinning, he tried to keep his attention focused ahead, tried to block out the irregular heaving of the world that threatened to make him nauseous. Sephiroth knew that if he bothered to look he would see the questions plastered all over his subordinate's face. Zack always had those questions. Sephiroth knew exactly what question it was; what happened, why does it keep happening?

Sephiroth always refused to answer so Zack had given up on trying getting a response out of him. The black-haired SOLDIER merely led the exhausted man to the couch and let him flop unceremoniously on the soft piece of furniture. He closed his cat-like green eyes and focused on his ragged breathing, trying to calm the fear that always presented itself after these sessions. It was a common occurrence—_he_ made him report to the lab every week—but it was never any easier. If anything, it kept getting harder.

Zack returned to the general's side within minutes, not saying a word as he handed the silver-haired man a pill. Sephiroth took it without thinking, giving a silent thanks to the younger man as his headache softened to manageable levels. It was sad…so very sad—Sephiroth would have shook his head if he didn't know it would stir up the headache again—that such a horrible occurrence happened regularly to warrant a routine. He and Zack had done this many times; the general always headed toward Zack's room whenever _he_ got a hold of him. Zack's room was closer than his own was and he could easily stagger to the younger SOLDIER's abode when he would most likely pass out halfway to his own.

He heard the black-haired SOLDIER shift and the general opened his eyes, finding his friend looking down at him, a familiar look in his eyes, "Seph…"

"Don't." He managed to get out through clenched teeth. The pill he had taken might have gotten rid of the headache but it hadn't numbed his aching muscles or his raw throat, "We go through this every week. Do not start it up again."

"That's the point Sephiroth, every week! Every week I find you half-dead at my door and I have no idea who is doin' this to you."

"Zack…"

Zachary Fair held up a hand to silence the silver-haired man, "Let me speak Seph. Let me say my piece. I'm your friend; I'm worried to death about you! What can bring you down so low, Seph? You're _THE _General, the strongest fighter on The Planet. Anything that can reduce you to little more than a quiverin' ball of nerves scares me more than anything else does in the world. What if one week you never come back from one of these 'sessions'?"

Sephiroth felt anger boiling within him. This was why he did not want the topic brought up again. Most drugs didn't work on him, so in order to make the headache go away he needed to take a special kind of medicine, a very strong kind. Unfortunately, one of the side effects was severe emotional instability. He hated not being in control of himself, and the medication completely stripped it from him.

"Do you really want to know?" He hissed; his emerald green eyes glittering eerily as he stared up at his second in command, "Do you _really_ want to know what they do in the bowels of the ShinRa organization? Do you want to know why I cannot do anything to stop these…'sessions'? I will tell you why, Fair."

Sephiroth pushed himself into an upright position, meeting the SOLDIER First directly in the eyes, "I report there every week like a _good_ little boy, to a room with drab grey walls and silvery needles. There my so-called _father_-_" _He practically spat the word out, "-Professor Hojo continues to add to the nightmare that is my life. I'm nothing more than a specimen to him, a guinea pig to experiment on at his leisure. Do you want me to tell you what he's done to me? One time he broke every single bone in my body just in order to see how long it would take me to heal. But even worse are the needles…" He shivered his voice lowering and his eyes closing, "Needles filled to the brim with mako…the planets' life blood…" He shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself.

Mako was a very volatile substance that was the source of all life on the Planet. It flowed deep beneath the surface—in what was widely known as the LifeStream--directing the spirit energy of the Planet. When a soul died, they returned to the LifeStream, melding with the consciousness of those who had passed on before them. Pure, unrefined mako was an extremely poisonous substance, but it also had wondrous abilities as well. Mako set apart the SOLDIERs from the ShinRa regulars. The mako gave the SOLDIERs their unnatural abilities and eerily glowing eyes… Mako could be found naturally in some places, like Wutai or Nibleheim, but more often than not, it had to be drawn out of the Planet. Mako gave ShinRa its power over the world. ShinRa's Mako Reactors were the main source of power for many of the major cities all over the planet. However, as ShinRa drew out the mako…the land died. The refining of Midgar's eight reactors had turned the plains surrounding the city to a barren wasteland, devoid of almost all wildlife to almost as far away as Kalm and the Chocobo Ranch.

Sephiroth collapsed face down on the couch, hiding his face in a curtain of silver hair, "Are you happy now…Zack? Does it please you to finally know I am an unnatural monster?"

"Seph…I…"

"Don't say anything Zachary…" he buried his face in the couch, "Just don't say anything."

For the first time in his life, Zack listened.

Sephiroth kept silent as Zack shuffled around the apartment, pulling a spare blanket or two out of the closet and setting them on the floor beside the couch—within easy reach of the occupant, of course. Finally, the lights went out; Zack had flipped the switch on the way to his own room. The general sighed into the fabric; things became too confusing far too quickly. Why couldn't life be simple, the way things were before Zack came into his life? He hadn't known what sorrow really was, hadn't known fear, and hadn't cared for companionship. Zack had changed all that, his offer that one Wednesday night proving to be the stroke that had managed to chip the general's walls of ice. It wasn't entirely Zack's fault; Sephiroth was also to blame for the way things turned out. He had been the one to take the offer, granted he had been half-aware of his own actions at the time. His mako muddled mind had directed him to the 2nd Class's quarters immediately after Hojo let him go, spurring him toward one of the only people he felt he might actually be able to trust in the entire company.

Zack had apparently seen something worth salvaging in the stoic general, because afterwards things were never the same between them. Gone was the boundaries of their working arrangement, Zack had ended up knocking them down before the week was up. Sephiroth had been indifferent to the boy's actions, thinking it was nothing more than some new phase on Zack's part. One that would be over with quickly, then things would go back to normal. It wasn't until the Second Class actually showed up to one of Sephiroth's training sessions and offered to be the general's sparring partner that he finally admitted that Zack might be serious. He had declined of course, but Zack wouldn't give up. He would keep showing up, pestering Sephiroth until he finally gave in.

The sessions succeeded in two things. The most visible was catapulting Zack into the coveted First Class rank, his strength, speed, and stamina having been pushed to the limits to even keep up with the general. The second was less obvious, but it was there for any who bothered to look closer. Sephiroth had gotten used to the SOLDIER during these sessions, loosening the restraints he had placed on himself and unwittingly allowing the first iota of friendship to form.

Sephiroth closed his eyes, pushing the thoughts away as he fell into a fitful sleep.

-

"Hey Seph!" The general glanced up from his work, directing his annoyance at his friend and subordinate, "What do you want to Fair?"

Sephiroth watched as the SOLDIER First class bristled and replied something he could not catch. He shook his head to clear it of distracting thoughts, "Can you repeat that?"

Zack just gave him _the_ look, "I told you not to use my last name." He paused, "Seph…are you still thinkin' about _that_?"

"About what?" The general feigned ignorance, not really wanting to relive the memories of the night before. He had completely broken down and spilled all—or at least a good portion—of his secrets to the black-haired man and--despite Zack's assurances on the contrary—he was still worried that it would all come back and slap him in the face. "I am just plotting the demise of a certain fat president. Masumane through the back would do the trick nicely."

"_Riiight"_ Zack drawled, "Don't lie to me Seph; I know you well enough that I'm able to tell. I told you once and I'll tell you again. I." He leaned over the general's desk, "Don't. Care." He accented each word by whacking the roll of papers in his hand against the wooden surface, "I wouldn't even care if you were an alien from another planet! Just…don't go on a mad rampage and kill anyone while trying to take over the world."

Sephiroth couldn't help the half-smile, half-smirk that Zack's remark caused, "Anyone?"

Zack paused, his expression settling into one of deep concentration, "Okay, okay…ShinRa and Hojo are fair game."

"What about Heidegger?"

"Fine, him too."

"Scarlet?"

The black-haired man cracked up laughing, "You're a greedy little alien aren't you? Fine, you can kill the entire ShinRa board of directors…except Reeve. Reeve is an okay guy; the others just suck up air."

Sephiroth chuckled, "Whatever you say, Fair." The dark-haired lieutenant was too busy envisioning the death of the corrupt ShinRa officials to notice Sephiroth's use of his last name.

Maybe…things weren't looking so bad after all.

A/N: …I dislike this chapter. While it's been three years since they met, it seems too early…But I need it to happen…

Blame the meds…that's all I can say.

Anyway, Cloud is officially on his way to Midgar, with Vincent in tow. But what will our favorite ex-Turk do about housing? I doubt he's going to walk into a ShinRa owned retail agency. And Cloud joins the SOLDIER training program…fun.

The one thing I did like about the chap...was the litte convo at the end._-laughs-_ If only you knew Zack, if only you knew the irony to what you just said.


	6. Part II Ch I: Transitions

-

Part 2 Chapter 1

September 4th, Cargo Ship to Junon

Year 3

-

Cloud was a strange one, Vincent decided at long length. He had an unassuming air about him and a thoughtful disposition. He was the kind of person that—if you did not know him—you would be hard pressed picking him out of a crowd. He had a way of keeping attention away from him, despite his unusually shaped hair. He looked so small and weak, a perfect target for bullies. The only reason the boy had escaped Nibelheim's local bully was because of Vincent's recent presence and it made him wonder how he planned to avoid those in ShinRa. It was about time, he supposed, that Cloud learned to deal with the 'survival of the fittest' philosophy that was the prevailing belief in the world. It wasn't like Vincent would be around forever to ward off those who thought the blonde would be easy pickings.

He could understand why Lucia had been so dead set on him going with the boy, but at the same time he questioned whether his continued presence would cause more harm than good. Vincent would be lying if he said he wouldn't feel better where he could keep a distant eye on the boy, he'd become one of the people close to him an one of the lessons he'd learned over the years was to keep those few precious people safe. Right now, his danger sense was going off a mile a minute, increasing in volume with each mile the cargo ship inched closer to Junon. It wasn't merely military bullies that was tripping the alarm, but it was the company involved that sent all the sirens blaring in his ears.

He did not trust ShinRa, not even one fraction of a bit. He would never trust the company, not unless Hojo was fired(not to mention locked up in the deepest, darkest pit available and kept down there until the end of his days. Or dead by way of Vincent's gun, either one worked) and the company board of administrators was completely rehauled. Even then he didn't think he'd be completely willing to trust his own life to the company, much less those that he cared about. Cloud and his mother had done something he hadn't been sure was possible, slowly, over the years he'd spent with them, they'd managed to worm their way behind his guard, slowly chipping at his shields and melting the ice he had formed around his heart when Hojo had begun the agonizing process of experimentation, torturing him every day as his friend and the one he loved hovered on the other side of the glass.

Of course he was still rather cold to anyone he had just met, a habit that he could not bring himself to break. He knew very well the way of the world. If you did not protect yourself, you would die. Despite the age old adage, he had started opening up to the Strifes. Ironically, the thawing of his heart was what had landed him in his current predicament.

He was going to Midgar, a place he never wanted to set foot into again. It held too many painful memories, memories of the Turks, of Hojo—of _her_. It was there he had met her. Vincent shook his head, derailing the train of thought before it entered the land of no return, he could not let those things stop him. Cloud was joining SOLDIER. How could he expect himself to let the boy go alone? He would not have been comfortable in Nibelheim, not with Cloud nearly in the clutches of ShinRa's infamous mad scientist

There was one little snag in his quest toward keeping a covert eye on Cloud, and it was none other than the pesky scientist that caused his paranoia. It seemed that many of his worries led irrevocably back to the professor. Vincent would be recognized easily because of his distinctive taste in clothing and his claw. How could he not? Hojo was the man who had created the image of what he now was. Hojo had graced him with the metal gauntlet, a method of identification far more effective than any tattoo. He could not remove it, the metal molded seamlessly without latch or catch. One might even think it were a full-blown prosthetic, if it weren't for the very real gloved hand that emerged from the metal casing. Most people missed it, their eyes being drawn by the golden-plated claws that partially covered it.

Luckily, he still had plenty of time to think about it. They were still two weeks from the city, longer if they traveled by foot. One leg of the journey was over; Vincent could see the ShinRa seaport known as Junon looming on the horizon. He and Cloud had gotten this far by catching one of the Cargo Ships at Costa del Sol. However, even that city had been on the other side of the continent and there just was not time to walk the entire way. The deadline for new recruits had only been a month away when they had originally set out.

They had gotten to Costa del Sol by way of chocobo back. Chocobos were a species of wild birds that were capable of carrying a human being on their backs. They were flightless, and usually yellow in coloration. The most identifiable feature about a chocobo was its rather distinctive crest of feathers on its head. Cloud had displayed an as of yet unforeseen talent at both catching and taming the wild birds. Unlike most wild birds, they had not dashed off when the pair had dismounted near the outskirts of the port-town; they had just stood there docile, as if they were raised around humans all their life. Cloud had even managed to coax them on board the ship so they would not have to catch new ones once they reached the continent. They were currently lounging below deck, in the cargo-hold itself.

At least they would not have to walk to Midgar, Vincent reflected, his human arm dangling absently over the rail. He had no idea how they would get the birds through the Mythril Mines, but Cloud had said that he had it covered. Vincent had his misgivings, but Chocobo-head was the expert.

Vincent leaned against the railing, looking thoughtfully at the expanse of blue that seemed to stretch endlessly into the distance. The sun was setting in the eastern sky, setting the sky aflame in blazes of reds and gold. It was a beautiful sight.

"You didn't have to come." He tilted his head slightly in acknowledgement of the speaker behind him, replying with a soft, "I know."

"Mother…" Cloud paused, "She would've gotten over it eventually. You don't have to come the rest of the way with me…I know you hate Midgar."

Vincent glanced over his shoulder, his scarlet eyes alighting upon the blonde who had given him a chance to live again, "Lucia wasn't the only reason I came." His shoulders rose and fell in a dismissive motion, "It doesn't sit well with me knowing that you would be traveling into the very clutches of that mad-man. I want to be nearby in case something happens. I am doing this as much for myself as for your mother."

An unreadable emotion flickered in the boy's eyes and he did not speak for a few moments. His voice was soft and subdued, barely audible over the crew's loud calls as they prepared to dock, "The SOLDIER are near the ShinRa building…what are you going to do?"

Vincent shrugged, returning his gaze to the ocean, "I will find a place in the slums. Hojo would never be caught dead beneath the plate. He is the only one who would be able to know me on sight…I don't look like I used to."

Cloud ducked his head; he knew better than anyone did how much Vincent hated that man, "Why don't you search out Aeris? I'm sure she could help you get settled in. I suggest Sector Six. It is a little less seedy than the others…as long as you avoid Wall Market, anyway."

_Aeris_…He filed the tidbit of information away, recognizing the name of the girl Cloud had been corresponding with the past few might explain the blonde's knowledge of Midgar, he knew quite well that Cloud had never even left Nibelheim before now; she could have been telling him about city life in her letter. The information did fit with what he remembered of the city, although this "Wall Market" did not ring a bell. Perhaps it was a recent addition.

-_September 21__th_,_ Midgar-_

Zack yawned and stared out over the masses of new recruits. He did not even bother taking note of the number; it would be cut in half before the first month of training finished. He ran a hand through his spiked black hair, tuning out President ShinRa's opening speech, it wasn't like he would miss much. He'd heard it so many times before that he'd begun to hear "blah blah, blahblah" whenever the induction ceremony came around. His attention slowly shifted from the restless recruits, traveling instead along the line of assembled ranking officers. He could not help the small grin that crossed his lips as he saw the artificial lighting glinting off silver hair. He could not see the General's expression—he was turned away—but he could easily fill in the image with his overactive—and did he mention bored?--imagination. Sephiroth was probably trying to convince himself that killing President ShinRa was a bad thing—he disliked speeches almost as much as he loathed the man himself. Almost.

Zack bit his cheek to prevent a small chuckle from escaping, but the method was not as effective as say, muffling the sound with a hand, but he was not allowed to break position. Not only would Sephiroth know that he was laughing at him(the general knew that Zack loved having a laugh at his expense, so even if it wasn't the case—which didn't happen often—it would be the first thing to his mind) but he'd also get reprimanded by Heidegger and he really didn't need to hear that horse talk any more than necessary. Either the chuckle wasn't quite silenced, or Sephiroth had developed mind reading abilities, because the General's cat-like green eyes zeroed in on his neighboring subordinate. The first Class had a feeling it was the first(he was hoping it was the former, a mind reading general was just SCARY) and Zack predicted that he would have an extra pile of paperwork on his desk tomorrow…

He HATED paperwork.

But it was worth the knowledge that he was one of the few who could ruffle Sephiroth's feathers.

A sudden lack of "blah blah, blahblah"-ing alerted the SOLDIER's wandering mind that the president had stopped speaking. Zack mimicked his peers and snapped to attention as the fat, balding man waddled off the stage. Another of the Soldier 1st's –Zack could not remember his name—stepped up to the podium and addressed the recruits, "You were all given a number when you turned in your registration papers. That will be your squad number. " The huge screen behind him flickered to life, displaying a map of the complex.

Zack zoned out again, this person sounding like, "blahblah, blah" to his ears, until the sound of his name snapped his attention back to the present, "Number Six. Report to Dorm 2, your commanding officer is SOLDIER First Zachary Fair."

The black haired SOLDIER glared at the announcer, resisting the urge to remind them _politely_ that his name was not Zachary, thank you very much, it was Zack. Sure, the official roster said Zachary, but one could never trust those official documents. He still swore there was a conspiracy going around to get everyone to answer to their full names, no matter how awkward or _creative_ those names were. He knew plenty of people who hated their names more than he did.

It only took a quick breath and he regained control of his wandering mind, slapping his customary devil-may-care grin back onto his face. He turned on heel and slipped out of the line of SOLDIERs, paralleling the group of recruits who had left the hall when his name was called. He stepped out in front of them, "So you are my little sixes? I'm Zack Fair. Never call me anything but my first name, no Zachary, Mr. Fair, or sir or I'll assign you to cleanin' duty in the training room."

"He'd do it too." Zack just barely caught the soft-spoken comment in between the whispers of the other recruits. His eyes quickly found the speaker, unconsciously attaching the voice to the face, "Did you say somethin', Cadet?"

"Yes sir," The recruit was a small blonde whose blue eyes rose to meet his own cobalt ones. Zack watched as the cadets around the blonde backed away, fearing what they thought would be their commanding officer's wrath. The elite hummed a little in his mind, he'd never gotten to be on this side of a squad before. Maybe this new assignment wouldn't be so bad, if anything he got himself some unwilling victims "What did you mean by that?"

He had to give the boy credit, he was not backing away in fear like the others had but he was not overly cocky either. This kid had both guts and brains, not a very common combination, "Meaning no disrespect sir, but you look like you would make us clean and enjoy every minute of it."

"So true," Zack grinned at the cadet, "Your name soldier?"

"Cloud Strife, sir."

"Well Strife, thank you for volunteerin', report to the gym on Friday."

"Yes sir." He could have sworn he saw amusement flickering in the depths of the cadet's eyes. Zack chuckled. He liked this kid already.

--

"Did you have fun with the brats?"

Zack tilted his head, glancing up at the General through his black bangs, "Nah. Bunch of pansies they are. I expect them all to drop out before the end of the year."

"All of them?" Sephiroth's eyebrow rose, voice thick with half-heartedly concealed amusement.

"Well…" Zack sat down at his own desk, pulling at the pile of papers that had built up all day while he had been settling his troops in, "Maybe not all of them. But, I only see one of them makin' anything other than a ShinRa regular. He's a small one though, so I don't know how he'd fare in the actual strength training. His name is Cloud Strife."

"Strife…" Sephiroth murmured, his silver brows drawing together in thought, "Where have I heard that before."

"Dunno. Maybe he had a relative in the military..." Zack shrugged, signing yet another paper without even looking at it.

"Perhaps," The General copied Zack's motion, going back to reading the mission report on his desk, "It doesn't matter anyway."

"Yeah well…we'll see what he can do soon enough. My group is scheduled for the trainin' center Friday afternoon." Zack stared at the pile in disgust, "Paperwork…I loathe paperwork. I thought that when I reached First Class I'd get more missions…but no…they have me doing paperwork!"

"I hate ShinRa. You don't see me complaining."

"You just did." Zack pointed out ever so helpfully.

Sephiroth did not even bat an eyelash at his partner's statement, "Point."

-September 21st-

Vincent wandered Sector Five, wondering what he should do now. He had made a mistake, forgetting that you needed to get a permit from ShinRa to purchase a house in Midgar. Getting a permit would mean an interview…not a good idea considering he wanted as little to do with ShinRa as possible…Perhaps he should just find a place in Kalm…

Eventually he wandered into Sector Six, running across a deserted old playground near the border between Six and Seven. Vincent frowned, remembering the last time he had been in the place. It was here that he had met _her_.

_It had been an easy mission, a quick get in, get out assignment. He ignored the blood that had splattered over his blue Turk suit, he hadn't known why ShinRa wanted the man dead, nor did he overly care. His job was to follow orders, not question them. The man had run into an abandoned church in Sector Five, and Vincent had caught him there. The resulting battle hadn't been pretty, but Vincent wasn't cruel. He didn't draw out the chase as his partner liked to do, and he had ended it in the quickest way possible.. ShinRa's clean up crew would be on the scene to clean up the mess soon enough, now all he had to do was get back to headquarters. But headquarters was above the plate… _

_Unfortunately, Sector Five's train line had been shut down to help corner the target, to cut off the escape routes, meaning he had to walk all the way to Sector Seven in order to get back above the plate. He had expected the way to be empty. The citizens of the slums knew better then to linger near a bloodstained—or even a clean Turk. Those that did had an unhealthy tendency to not live very long. He had just reached the gate to Sector Seven when the creaking of swings drew his attention. Swinging gently back and forth was the most beautiful woman he had ever—or would ever—met. She paused in her swinging, brown eyes alighting on the Turk—_

"Hello…"

Vincent nearly jumped, his red eyes immediately going to the run down swing set. A courtly looking maiden was sitting on one of the swings, the rusted chains still creaking slightly even though she had stopped the gentle swinging motion. Green eyes—green not brown—watched him with curiosity. The curiosity quickly changed to surprise, "Vincent?"

Confusion was foremost in the gunner's thoughts; did he know this girl? "Who are you?"

The girl was puzzled for a moment but realization dawned, "Oh! I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself. I am Aeris. Cloud and I were pen pals. He told me about you. We've been too busy to write lately. What are you doing here?"

"Cloud…He's up there." He gestured vaguely at the plate above them with his human arm, "He wanted to join SOLDIER. I tagged along to keep him out of trouble. I miscalculated."

She frowned worriedly at the news, "Cloud in SOLDIER? I thought he hated ShinRa…What do you mean by miscalculated? Is Cloud in trouble?"

"He said it was something he needed to do…" The ex-Turk eyed the girl distrustfully. He didn't like the way she made him feel at ease, lowering the shields he had erected as a defense against the city. Midgar was a dangerous place, especially the slums. For all he knew she was a spy for Hojo, but he did not think so. A fragment of memory…

"_Why don't you search out Aeris?"_

Therefore, Cloud did know her, a little at least. He decided to trust her, infact, he couldn't help but trust her. There was something about her, in her stance, in her face, in her voice, that made himself just want to tell her all of his troubles. He didn't like it, especially when he caught himself about to do just that. "Cloud is fine."

He green eyes bore into him, and he felt as if he were floundering in the depths of the lifestream, as if she could see everything. "You look lost…you can't find a place to stay, can you?," Aeris put a finger to her chin thoughtfully, ignoring the surprise that flashed across his face at her question, "I wish I could help…I suppose I could ask my mom about letting you stay with us…That's it! Hey, can you be a bodyguard?"

Vincent took a couple moments to recover from being opened up like a book and read, it was as if his masks and shields were useless to this mere slip of a girl. "I suppose so…why?"

"'Cause the slums are a dangerous place and Mama is getting so worried about me going out and about…especially near Wall Market." She gestured to the road that ran from the gate off into the distance, "She's afraid I'll be kidnapped or something. I don't want to worry her…but I can't just stay home. I grow flowers in the old church in Sector Five and I sell them to people. If I stopped we wouldn't have enough money…If you agree to be my bodyguard Mama wouldn't be so worried and you would be able to live with us—without ShinRa knowing any better."

The park was silent as Vincent considered the offer. At long length he nodded; it was either this or Kalm, and no matter how much the brown-haired girl unnerved him, Cloud knew her and his instincts weren't whispering to him to get _away_. It wasn't like he had a better option. "I'll take the job."

"Great! This way Cloud will be able to know where you are."

Vincent nodded his face impassive as he listened to the girl talk. His thoughts drifted off, devising ways that he could keep from being detected by Hojo, and forming hypotheses about this strange Aeris girl.

A/N: Hittocere, this is for you. If you hadn't sent that PM…well, let's just say I wouldn't have been motivated to attempt to work on revising this(it was horrid…I hated the original un-revised version, unfortunately, that made me very unmotivated. ) There was a bit of Vinny OOC there in the end where he told her his trouble…I kinda fixed that n.n; made Aeris into a mind reader…

Zack is fun to write…

I will not give a date for the next update…I find that when I even hint at the time I end up failing horribly…at least school's out now. Yay for lots and lots of free time! (I'm going into my last year in high school ;-; it's scary…)

This chapter is dedicated to two, Hittocere and my rabbit Yuuki. Hittocere just because you've stuck with me for so long(and still bug me about it) and my rabbit just because he's the cutest thing _ever_(and he's kinda watching me as I type…)

Ahem. Anyways, that's the end for now.


	7. Part II Ch II: Meetings and Curiosity

-

Part 2 Chapter 2

September 25th, Midgar

Year 3

-

"Sir, I'm here." Zack watched the blonde enter, ignoring the slight twitch of irritation the title always brought to mind. Despite all his attempts—AKA threats—Cloud remained the only one in the squad that insisted on calling him 'sir'. The soldier first wasn't deluded into thinking it was out of respect. He knew it wasn't respect. Not that the blonde was disrespectful or anything, if anything he was the most attentive out of all of them. The only reason he knew that it wasn't respectful in origin was because he did the same thing to Sephiroth, and the general did it back to him. It was fun to use something that you knew the target hated, especially when they knew it was on purpose. It was more along the lines of teasing, at any rate.

Zack stepped into view, his Buster Sword resting lightly against his shoulder. He had just finished his afternoon training and hadn't had time to put away the large weapon yet. The cadet's eyes were drawn to the sword and Zack didn't quite understand the emotion that flickered behind them, sadness…? Awe or fear he could understand, they were common emotions to the cadets who first laid eyes on the massive blade. Sorrow…he couldn't place a reason on that.

He knew he could be mistaken, but he doubted it. Zack had always been rather skilled at reading other people's feelings, especially through the eyes. It was a requirement if you were General Sephiroth's friend. The general, as a rule, never betrayed exactly what he was feeling unless he trusted you unconditionally. As of so far, Zack had been the only one to reach that coveted position. Sometimes…the eyes were the only way you could tell when the mask was up.

Zack dismissed the thought to ponder later and tossed the blonde a wooden sword, weighted to mimic the weight and balance of a real weapon. Cloud caught it with ease, his eyes narrowing as he studied the soldier first warily, "I thought you were going to make me clean."

"I was." Zack easily replied, leaning the buster sword against the wall and picking up a second wooden sword, giving it a few test swings, "But then I saw you sparrin' earlier. You were holdin' back."

He had taken the cadets into this very room in an attempt to gauge their current skills and potential. None of the others had any noteworthy skills; Zack had just about given up any hopes for natural talent, and was about to just break out his old training manuals, when he had seen Cloud and his partner sparring in the corner of the room. To the other children Cloud must have looked just as clumsy and inexperienced, but to Zack's trained eye, it had seemed wrong. He had decided to test the blonde away from the others.

He saw a flash of fear in Cloud's blue eyes but just chalked it up to having to fight against a SOLDIER First class. The cadet almost dropped his sword, stuttering, "S-sir, are you serious?"

"Very." Zack hefted the sword and swung it at the cadet. He was holding himself back, he wasn't here to prove that he could beat Cloud; he was here to judge the boy's skills. Besides, his real strength would be too much for any cadet to handle, no matter how much prior experience he had.

Cloud's movements were jerky as he brought his sword up to block the blow, he probably wasn't used to moving the weighted sword. It came up too high, allowing Zack to land a blow directly in the unguarded chest area. His eyes narrowed in thought as he drew the wooden sword back, waiting a minute for the cadet to regain his breath. It was odd, Cloud's stance and grip easily showed prior experience with a sword, but his center of balance was all wrong. It was as if he had been used to fighting with something heavier, rather than lighter as he'd expected. In addition, many of the mistakes had almost seemed deliberate, as if the blonde didn't want anyone to realize his skills. Perhaps he just didn't want to be treated any differently than the others.

"Too late," He murmured to himself, positioning his weapon in anticipation of a counter-attack. Cloud Strife was hiding something, and Zack wanted to find out what it was.

-Later that night-

"Ungh…" Zack stumbled, leaning against the wall for support, "Why…" He murmured, "Why…why the hell did I just do that?"

The world spun, causing his stomach to lurch; his hastily eaten dinner was threatening to come back up. The SOLDIER First had forgotten what it felt like to get drunk; he hadn't been able to get properly smashed since before he joined SOLDIER. The mako injections that came in the job description usually heightened the person's alcohol tolerance; to feel this bad he must have consumed more of the liquid than was healthy. He groped at the fuzzy memories, why had he been drinking again? Oh, right.

One of his SOLDIER buddies…what was his name again? It didn't really matter; he wasn't that close with anyone in the program except for Sephiroth. They always saw his goofy façade and wrote him off as a moron or an imbecile. Sure, many of the lower ranks, 3rd and 2nd classes, were a little in awe of him for his fast ascent through the hierarchy, he was a nineteen year old First Class SOLDIER, the youngest in the history of the company. The other SOLDIER First Classes just regarded him with contempt most of the time, the majority of them were at least in their late twenties and disliked the fact that a 'youngster' had managed to make his way up the ranks so easily. The only reason they ever talked to him was when it was necessary for work, or when they were just being polite. It had been the latter reason tonight, one of the SOLDIER Firsts who had quarters near him had invited him to go out drinking with him to celebrate his first Cadet Squadron. Zack wasn't sure what had prompted him to accept the SOLDIER's offer, but he did take it.

The other man had disappeared somewhere about half-way through the evening, and now Zack had to find his way back to Upper Midgar by himself. Where the guy went, he didn't know, nor did his alcohol muddled mind care. He wondered absently how strong the drinks he had were, he didn't remember consuming near enough of the stuff to override the protection his mako-injection had enabled him. Truthfully, the mako was the only reason he was still thinking coherently, although he had a feeling it wouldn't last much longer. The world spun and he felt himself swerve, his thoughts began to muddle and the world began to fade away… "Darn mako…" He murmured, "Can't even get properly smashed." It wouldn't have been near so bad if he didn't remember it.

The entire world blinked out and he felt like he was falling… and after what seemed like seconds he jerked awake. To his surprise, he felt much better than he had before he'd passed out. The mako had probably chased away what was left of the alcohol, leaving behind only the barest traces of a headache. Mako, the miracle hangover cure. After laughing softly at the absurd thought he opened his eyes and checked his surroundings, surprised and a little wary about no longer finding himself in the street where he had passed out. He was laid out on a bed in a cozy little room. He sat up suddenly, his SOLDIER instincts shooting into full gear as he tried to puzzle out his situation.

"Don't move." A soft yet firm voice commanded from the corner of the room. Zack immediately found the source and began berating himself for not noticing the person before hand. He could almost hear the general's patronizing tones reminding him that if he made that mistake on a mission, he would be dead. He really couldn't see how he had missed the brooding presence in the corner.

He was seated on a stool, mako glowing red eyes watching the SOLDIER appraisingly. Dark hair fell in a river down his back and a black headband wound around his forehead, not really serving its purpose in keeping his hair away from his face. "You're awake." It wasn't a question, merely a statement, "Wait here."

The command in the cold tone wasn't lost on the SOLDIER, and surprisingly, he found himself obeying. The man's posture and the ease with which he gave commands easily showed prior military training, or if not at least leadership over a group. There was a note similar to Sephiroth's when he was on the job, and when he told someone to do it, they did it—no questions asked.

The marksman–Zack could easily see the weapon at the man's side—rose from his seat, a gloved hand opening the door and disappearing into the hall. It wasn't long until a girl bustled into the room, the taciturn man choosing to remain by the entryway. He didn't really pay too much attention to the girl as she began to fuss over him; he was focused on the black-clad figure that hovered near the entryway. Sure she—Aeris, if he had caught her name when she first came in—was pretty in a way that would usually catch his attention and keep it for a good long while, but there was something much more interesting about the gunner. Moreover, he had a weapon and was a potential threat, and his SOLDIER instincts had yet to release their hold on his psyche.

He was dressed plainly enough, a long sleeved turtle neck sweeter that looked like it was a couple sizes too big and black slacks that looked similar to the ones SOLDIER Cadets wore—durable yet at the same time easy to move in. A bangle glimmered faintly from its spot on the gunner's right forearm, the pale green and purple glow of materia glinted duly in the artificial lighting.

Materia was crystallized mako energy that lent its possessor abilities beyond normal human capabilities. The marksman was in possession of one magic materia and one support materia, but Zack could not even hazard to guess exactly what types of magic were contained within the crystallized mako. Without touching them and probing the magic, the odds of him successfully picking out the specific spells from somewhere around one hundred known types where nill to none.

The man's gun was holstered at his side and if the red gleam was of any indication, it housed one or two more orbs of material, summon this time. Both hands were covered in black leathery-looking gloves, or at least Zack guessed so. The gunner's left sleeve was a lot longer than his arm and effectively cut off any view of it. The glove on his right hand was fingerless in order to give him optimum movement, which was a necessity considering the side the gun was kept on.

The man's lips twitched into a knowing smile and Zack knew that his scrutiny had been discovered. He quickly shifted his gaze, turning his main attention to the quiet brown-haired girl and keeping watch over the dark man out of the corner of his eye, "I'm sorry for being a bother, Miss Aeris. The name is Zack Fair, SOLDIER First Class."

Aeris just laughed politely, "It was no problem at all Mr. Fair. We wouldn't have just left you out there, right?"

The question had been directed toward the lurker near the door who just nodded in response. Zack quickly looked between the two, his mind landing on what looked to be the obvious conclusion considering the time of night, the location, and the observations he'd seen so far, "Ah…Ah….I'm sorry for having interrupted your date-"

His apology was cut off in mid word by a short laugh from the dark man, his indifferent mask slipping for a moment and allowing the SOLDIER to glimpse fleeting amusement as it darted across the gunner's face, "We're not dating."

"Oh…" Zack flushed, scratching the back of his head embarrassedly, what did they expect him to think? A pretty girl and a handsome guy walking through the slums together…alone…His face turned pink from the images his mind dragged up, and colored even more when Aeris' thoroughly amused laugh rang out, "No! No! Vincent is just my bodyguard!"

"Vincent, eh?" He managed to get the blush under something vaguely resembling control and glanced at the him out of the corner of his eye, "D'ya got a last name?"

The dark man shrugged, either not seeing any harm in the answer or not caring about the tidbit of information "Valentine."

Zack nodded, but froze in mid nod when he spotted the clock on the wall, "SHI-" He cut the curse off, glancing hurriedly at Aeris, "I'm sorry for sleeping and running but I really need to get back,"

"You could stay here." Aeris offered, "It is almost midnight."

"…" Zack looked over at her, "Are you sure it's okay?"

Aeris smiled, which was answer enough.

-September 26th-

"What do you want Fair?"

"Don't call me that!" Zack made a face at his commanding officer; he hated being addressed by his last name. He had already been a little miffed that he had to come into the office on a Saturday, he didn't want to experience one of Sephiroth's semi-playful moods. Sephiroth loved to tease him without seeming like he was, he was most likely getting a little revenge for all of the things that Zack did on a daily basis. Sephiroth just smirked and Zack couldn't help but feel a little giddy, he was the only one who could tease the General like that without some serious repercussions. The word serious seemed to snap his mind back on track, reminding him that he actually had something he wanted to get done today "Oh, right. I need your access."

A silver eyebrow rose minutely in speculation, "Oh…? Why would you need that?"

"…"

When Sephiroth refused to budge from his computer Zack sighed in defeat, "You aren't going to let me use it 'till I tell you…right?"

Sephiroth snorted, "Do you really think you could get away without sating my curiosity?"

"There isn't much to spill really." Sephiroth twitched as Zack seated himself precariously on the edge of Sephiroth's desk. The nineteen-year-old SOLDIER ran a hand through his thick black hair, oblivious to the discomfort his position was generating, "It's for my own curiosity. You know that I got drunk last night, right?"

Zack didn't even wait for an answer, he knew the general remembered, Zack had told him that very morning when he had arrived to the office an hour late and had to listen to the resulting lecture on company image, punctuality and all that fun stuff, "I guess I passed out somewhere and this girl took me in. She was…nice I suppose. Pretty and sweet…"

"Zack…"

"Right, right, off topic. Anyway with this girl was a guy. I thought they were datin' at first but she explained that he was her bodyguard or something… I don't know what but there was somethin' odd about him."

"Like Strife?" Sephiroth queried, 'something odd' was a phrase Zack often used to describe the one youth in his squad. No matter how many times he told the SOLDIER that he didn't care about Zack's cadet's antics, he'd still be regaled with tales whenever the black-haired porcupine believed it was too quiet. Apparently Zack had pulled the boy from regular training sessions, drilling the youth privately. Once Sephiroth had tracked Zack to one of the training sessions—he couldn't remember why…probably some important paper he'd misfiled—and Sephiroth could see why the SOLDIER made such an effort to train the cadet apart from the others. The boy had some sort of prior skill. He would never come straight out and say it—that would be admitting that Zack was right—but it was easily seen in the way Strife held himself, in the way he held his sword—like it was an extension of his being. Despite these quirks, the blonde was only hiding so much. His body was neither built nor trained to handle long battles, a fact that constantly frustrated the cadet. It was as if he expected much more from his teenaged frame than what he got from it. Zack also had to keep correcting his stance; his center of gravity was always too low.

"Nah, not that kind of feelin'," Zack waved his hand vaguely in the air, dismissing the connection as irrelevant, "And I've never met him before, so it's not familiarity. I guess the closest I can think of is that he reminds me of someone…of you actually."

"…And that warrants using my clearance to enter the ShinRa Database and snoop through his files?" Sephiroth couldn't help but wonder what Zack had been thinking when he thought up this plan.

"Well that's _my_ reason. The official reason is that I met a potential anti-ShinRa assassin and want to do a background check."

Apparently, Zack had thought this through a bit more than Sephiroth had given him credit for. The silver-haired general thought it over for a minute. If he didn't let Zack do as he wanted, he'd probably make his life miserable until he deemed that Sephiroth had suffered enough. If he let him, then not only would Zack be content with nosing into the past of his newest victim, but he might also get some office entertainment. Needless to say his decision was made quickly, and Sephiroth pushed his chair away from his desk and got up, letting Zack quickly snatch up the empty chair. He hung over his subordinate's shoulder, watching impassively as the black-haired man logged onto the network. When the prompting for the clearance password appeared, Zack moved his hands away from the keyboard, letting Sephiroth type in the keys without even looking. This was an activity they had taken part in time and time before, and both knew the protocol by now. The general drew back, returning control of the keyboard to his second.

Zack took it back excitedly, his fingers twitching with barely contained anticipation. No one would have ever suspected that beneath the overly active, battle loving exterior would be a—to put it simply—nerd. He loved being able to mess around with ShinRa's computers—the machines were rather rare in other parts of the world and ridiculously expensive to boot—especially if said computer was hooked up to The Database. The Database was the compilation of everything the company knew—save top-secret information, of course. Charts, graphs, reports, essays, applications, interview transcripts, Midgar's industrial, commercial, residential, and military profiles, you could find almost anything if you knew where to look. It was a treasure trove of knowledge, lacking only sensitive documents from the Mako Sciences Research and Weapons Development Departments. Those were all stored away behind a top-notch security system designed by professor Hojo himself. Zack could probably break into those archives if he wanted too, but he didn't really want to risk it.

"Heh…" Zack frowned, double-checking his results as they scrolled up the screen, "That's strange…"

"What is it?" Sephiroth loomed over Zack's shoulder, tucking his hair behind his ear so that it wouldn't obscure his vision; on the screen was a military profile, "I thought you said you didn't recognize him? You know almost everyone in the military."

"I didn't." Zack murmured, "I ran a search for a "Valentine"—his last name—and this is the only match. The name is exactly the same, Vincent Valentine, but there is no way this guy is him."

"Why not?" The general studied the person depicted in the profile. Short black hair fell neatly around the man's ears and emerald green eyes stood out in the man's lightly tanned skin, the eyes were tilted, perhaps hinting to at least a half-Wutaian bloodline. His cheekbones were sharp and defined, giving the man a hard edge to his disposition.

"'Tis simple, my friend, discounting the obvious differences in looks—the man I met had longer hair, red eyes, and his skin was almost paper white—this guy was a Turk. A good one granted, but he was retired a good twenty-three years ago on a mission to guard a pair of scientists in Nibelheim. It doesn't say who, but judging by the time and place you can bet one was Hojo. He was the only one who ever went to Nibelheim on a regular basis. I wonder what he does there…it is a rather small and out of the way place."

Sephiroth read over the information, "Ho…a Turk Leader at age twenty-one? Impressive."

Zack nodded, "But it's not the guy I'm looking for. This Valentine did not have any kids so we can rule that option out. The guy did have some sort of military training, but I think this was a dead end." His efforts at snooping thwarted, he logged off the mainframe and relinquished the comfy chair to the general—with reluctance of course, "Why is it that all the interesting people have secrets?"

"That is what makes them interesting, Zachary."

"I guess—hey, don't call me that either!"

-October 3rd-

"I see you found her Vincent."

The marksman half-turned in the pew, easily spotting the speaker in the entrance to the church. Cloud looked different, older and more mature, in the blue ShinRa uniform. The blonde's eyes moved on passed Vincent, landing on the girl kneeling in the flowers, "Oi, Aeris!"

The girl rose to her feet, picking up her half-full basket and turning around in the same motion, "Cloud! Why didn't you write and tell me you guys were coming? It was only by pure chance that I found Vincent two or three weeks ago."

"Eh, sorry." Cloud's hands rose in a defensive gesture as Aeris strode down the aisle, stopping a few feet away from him and putting her hands on her hips, giving him a moment to defend himself before continuing her scolding, "I had been planning on coming on my own in the first place."

"You still should've told me."

Vincent stayed quiet as the two started up an easy conversation, his attention drifting from one to the other. It was strange, the ease with which they interacted with each other. If what Cloud had said was true, then they'd have never met face to face before. While Aeris seemed to be an open person, Cloud had never been one to voluntarily spend time with people his own age. It was almost alien to see the blonde boy so animated when he was not sparring with his sword.

A soft breath of air escaped his lips as he leaned back against the rough wood of the pew, craning his neck to study the aged wood that made up the ceiling of the church. The light banter of the two teenagers softened to background levels as he allowed his thoughts to wander, the separate planks of wood blurring together as his eyes drifted out of focus. It was unsettling to be in Midgar again, and not just because of the ties it held to both ShinRa and himself. The very air itself irritated his nose, the residual mako thrown into the air by the city's eight reactors aggravating senses that had grown used to the clear mountain air. Like all things, it would pass. It was an old problem for him, dating back to when he was on active duty. After long-term missions to out of the way places such as Cosmo Canyon or Wutai it'd always been hell to readjust to Midgar's environment.

"Let's head back to my house, I'm sure Mother wouldn't mind having you over for dinner, Cloud." Aeris was speaking again, her voice coming closer. The wood sharpened as he began paying attention again, shifting his focus to the pink-clad form that had been walking up the aisle, and shaking away the thoughts as she motioned to him that it was time to go. He found himself nodding automatically to his young charge, a veil of calm settling over him as he settled in back into his "bodyguard" state. One of the main tasks a Turk was required to do was protect the ShinRa Executives, it goes without saying that he had plenty of experience when it came to perceiving and neutralizing threats.

The walk from the church to the Sector Six Residential Area wasn't long, nor was it particularly interesting. Once or twice a drunk or a would-be mugger would look twice at Aeris' dainty and rather weak stature, but immediately looked the other way when they spotted Cloud's ShinRa uniform or Vincent's glowing mako eyes. No one in the city was stupid enough to cross anyone in ShinRa's employ, and even a green recruit like Cloud was regarded with some level of fear and would be left alone by all but the most confident of the Slum dwellers.

Maybe he hadn't been needed after all.

The thought hit Vincent by surprise, causing him to fall back a little bit—still keeping his charge in sight, of course. If it were true, and he had a feeling it either was or would be soon, then what was he to do? Stay here? Return to Nibelheim?

What?

A/N: Chappy. Vinny meets Zack, Zack meets Aeris, and Zack's damnable curiousity hooks its claws into Vinny's secretive past. Fun, no? The funny thing is, Zacky won't realize that he could just ask Cloud anything(not that Cloud will answer...but still).

Next--Zack starts making several visits beneath the plate and blackmails Seph into watching his squad.

Reiew please. Pretty please? The chappy didn't take months this time!


	8. Part II Ch III: Training Center

Part 2 Chapter 3

Sephiroth huffed irritably and tried very hard to resist the urge to massage his temples. He didn't know how he had managed to be talked into this mess, he wasn't quite sure he wanted to know. Sometimes Zack's methods were better left unknown. The slippery SOLDIER first class had gotten himself landed on a mission to the slums. While missions to lower Midgar aren't all that rare, it was extremely rare to for a first class to be assigned to one, and it was almost unheard of for it to be a squad leader. Sephiroth suspected some strings had been pulled, and some favors had been called in, Zack was often disappearing down to the Slums—he had a pretty good idea as to why—but this was the first time there was no one to look after his little troop of cadets.

Zack had badgered and bothered, weaseled and whined, once he learned that all of the 'substitute's were booked for the day. The end result was Sephiroth finally agreeing, if only to shut the annoying friend up, to take over the training of his squad. It wasn't as if he had anything pressing to do, and the black haired lieutenant promised that it would be the first and last time. Of course, going by past experience, he didn't have much faith in that statement.

That was how he came to be down in the dorms hall—a place he usually avoided at all costs. He HATED the incessant staring of the cadets—staring at the door that had been assigned to Zack's squad. Sephiroth shook his head and curled his fingers around the doorknob, allowing his expression to fall back in to its usual indifferent mask. The cadets inside turned around at the sound of the door opening, a chorus of 'Good Morning's dying unuttered as they caught sight of the silver-haired general. Sephiroth knew exactly what was running through the cadet's heads, anything ranging from 'OMG the General!' to 'Someone's in trouble!'

"G-general, sir, where is Commander Zack?" One of the recruits managed to find their wits and ask the question that the other three cadets wanted answers to. Sephiroth ignore the question, silently counting the number of boy's in the common room, four, and "Is this the whole squad?"

"N-no sir," Another cadet replied, the first having been cowed by the general's casual dismissal of his inquiry. "Strife and Vitalis aren't here yet."

The general gave the boy a bored glance, "Gather them up and report to the Intermediate Training Area."

"B-but we've only been here two months! We haven't finished the beginner's levels!"

Sephiroth's cat-like eyes narrowed minutely, "Fair put you under my command. You will do what I tell you." He glanced at each cadet in turn, "Is that clear?"

All he received in response were weak nods, "Good, dismissed."

He turned on his heel and swept out of the room, ignoring the panicked words of the cadets as they ran about the dorm searching for their missing teammates. Out of sight, Sephiroth could indulge himself a smirk of amusement, if Zack was forcing him to supervise his troop, the general was not going to go easy on them. He had high standards.

Sephiroth didn't have to wait long for the entire squad to show up; it was amazing how fast he could get even the laziest cadet to do something. There were good things to being SOLDIER's General, one being the amount of fear and respect you inspire in your underlings. It was a pity Zack had been immune to it. Maybe he could've prevented all of the headaches the black-haired man had given him.

Sephiroth's eyes flickered toward the two new additions—a petite blonde and an average brunet--Strife and Vitalis respectively. He remembered the two from the tales Zack always told during what he'd dubbed 'Paper pushing time'. He moved his gaze from the two cadets and addressed the entire group, "The monsters in this center are not that much stronger than the ones you are used to, but they show up more often and in larger numbers. Non-elemental and status magic is first introduced here. No complaining." He added curtly, seeing the worried expressions on a few of the faces. He noticed Strife sigh and turn to Vitalis—one of the worried ones—and whispered something into the other boy's ear. Sephiroth's mako-enhanced hearing easily caught the words, "Strife, please repeat what you just said to the rest of the squadron."

The blonde's head snapped up, blue eyes narrowing as they focused on the silver-haired general. Sephiroth took a double take as he saw a familiar flicker in the boy's eyes, '_Mako?' _It wasn't impossible for a child to be born with inherent mako in their blood; it just wasn't very common to see them in Midgar. If he remembered correctly, it usually happened when the child was born and raised in an environment with an abundance of untapped mako, such as Mideel or Nibelheim. It caused the eyes to glitter strangely and gave the child faster than normal healing capabilities but other then that did nothing. Because the child has lived with mako all their life, they also develop a bit of resistance to mako poisoning.

Sephiroth had done research in this phenomenon when he was younger, once he had realized what his own glowing eyes had meant. Unfortunately, his illusions had been shattered by Hojo when he had questioned the professor about it. Now he realized that it had been a side effect of the various mako samples the professor had been injecting him with since he was born. So much for childhood dreams of _not_ being a living science experiment.

Strife closed his eyes and recited word for word his earlier comment, ""We are going to have to get used to fighting these monsters because a good many of them live around Midgar. This would be good practice because we will be getting assigned to patrol duty to help try and control the population."" He took a breath and opened his eyes again, "Was that acceptable, sir?"

Sephiroth replied with an approving tilt of his head, "That is one of the few reasons. I will split you all into two groups of three. Roll call."

Few of the cadets were startled by the sudden order but managed to comply. A sandy-haired youth spoke up first, "ShinRa Regular Class C, Cecil Anderson."

"ShinRa Regular Class C, Herne Grant." A lithe black-haired youth responded, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

"Gwydion Howell," A red-haired cadet just shrugged his shoulders, "Class C Mage in training."

"ShinRa Regular Class B, Kyros Orion." The brunet that had spoken to Sephiroth in the dorm spoke up, checking on the weapon that was strapped to his back.

"Cloud Strife," The blonde one just blinked blue eyes up at him, "Class B ShinRa Regular."

"Galen Vitalis. Class C Medic in training."

"Anderson, Vitalis, and Grant, group A. You will come with to the interior with me. Orion, Howell, and Strife you stay around the entrance until I return to switch the groups."

Strife and Orion nodded in understanding and acceptance, Howell nodded but didn't look too happy about it. Sephiroth didn't like that look, he'd seen it far too many times before some fool soldier with dreams of grandeur ran off and got himself killed. He fixed an icy glare on the group he was leaving behind, considering switching out one of his current group to avoid a future problem. After a moment of very tense silence he decided to remain with his original plan. Sephiroth glanced at Group A, "Come."

The three cadets followed him as he traveled deeper into the jungle-like depths of the training center. It was designed to be as much like a true battlefield would be. Monsters lurked everywhere in the interior, kept within the designated areas by high-level barrier spells. The entire training center itself was sectioned off like this, the different areas containing monsters of varying strengths. There were no physical obstacles separating the areas, only the lone barrier spell. However, the spell only kept out monsters; a lost cadet wouldn't feel a thing as they wandered through—which was why he'd told the other team to _stay put._ They weren't to the level where they could sense the spell's magic. On one side of the intermediate area was the beginner, and on the opposite was the SOLDIER. Beyond both beginner and SOLDIER was the Advanced level, the final quadrant of the circular training field.

After a few moments of travel, Sephiroth spoke, "Who is the leader of the squad?"

"Orion." Grant spoke up softly.

"Howell is the mage and Vitalis is the medic. What about the Offensive Leader?" Sephiroth thought back to the roll call, only Howell and Vitalis had actually mentioned their roles, hence his questions now.

"Anderson." Grant had elected himself the group's spokesperson to the general in Orion's absence. The other two were content to just sit back and listen.

"Scout?"

"Me."

"What is Strife's niche?" The general could not think of any more roles; all those years ago when he was part of a squad, there were only five members. ShinRa had changed the regulations due to the increase in recruits since the Wutai War and Sephiroth's own rise to fame.

"He's our joker." Vitalis beat Grant to the punch, at Sephiroth's questioning gaze he explained, "He doesn't fit in any one role. He usually helps Anderson with the main offense, but he could fill in any of the other roles without much problem. He's our wild card of sorts."

Sephiroth had stopped paying attention to the cadets, and instead was studying the surroundings. Judging by the sounds he was hearing—after tuning out the unnecessary noise being made by the mostly heavy-footed boys, monsters were coming. True to his role, Grant had noticed it as well; the scout hushed Vitalis almost immediately—the medic had been talking despite the almost constant shushings of his teammates. Two plant-like monsters stumbled out of the trees and the general watched the cadets scramble to get in position, "What materia do you three carry?"

"Base leveled Restore, Heal, and Time." Vitalis checked the glowing orbs in the slots on his belt. Grant quickly drew his weapon, a small slim sword with two yellow crystals in the blade, "Sense and Enemy Skill—currently empty." Anderson swung his standard-issue blade experimentally, it was larger and heavier than Grant's weapon but it did more damage, "I don't have any."

Sephiroth ran the scenario in his head before giving the trio their orders, taking on the role of Squad Leader due to the absence of their own, "Vitalis use haste on Grant. Anderson, cover Vitalis and concentrate your attack on whichever is closer. Grant you take the other one."

The cadets sprang into action just as the monsters decided to attack. He watched the fight play out. The plant-like monsters were one of the weaker monsters in the area, yet the cadets were struggling against them. Their individual skills were passable, but the over all strength rating was horrible. It took forever to finish a fight that should only take one blow each. He shook his head once the battle ended and Vitalis began to cast restore, "Wait. Don't waste your magic on minor wounds. Save it for when you need it."

Vitalis ducked his head, "Yes sir."

Sephiroth turned away and rolled his eyes, he hated dealing with beginners. He just didn't have Zack's patience with them. The General was about ready to give up on the group, Zack had been right about his cadets, and they probably wouldn't get much higher than a Senior Grunt and best. They just didn't have the restraint nor the skill necessary for SOLDIER, or even the intelligence and cunning needed for the Turks. Strength and ambition wasn't everything. Of course, they were only two months into their training; they still had ten months until it came to the ShinRa Military Exams. Cadets with high scores on the SME would be scouted for either SOLDIER or the Turks, passable scores would be drafted into the army, and those who failed would be kicked out of the military.

After another hour of monster hunting the general decided to switch groups. They hadn't gone very far into the center, the stronger monsters in the section were nearer to the middle, where the wedge-shaped sections intersected each other. The cadets were quite willing to take a break while he took the second group out, he guessed he had pushed them harder than Zack normally would have.

It took about 10 minute to lead the group back to the entrance to switch them off with the others, but the scene they arrived at was not what Sephiroth liked. His eyes narrowed, sweeping over the bare, dirt covered area that he'd left the other group in, and there were no signs of the expected boys. "Grant," He said coldly, eyes flashing with suppressed anger—he should have gone with his earlier plan and switched them out. "Can you determine where they went?"

The scout glanced around the cleared area, before closing his eyes and pulled one of the yellow crystals from the hilt of his sword. Sephiroth shook his head, "You can't find people with the Sense spell, cadet."

"I know that sir, but it does pick up mako. Strife had mako in his blood."

"True," The general was slightly impressed; he hadn't considered that use of the sense material. It was how the scan magic worked, reading the mako concentration of a monster and translating it into a relative estimate of difficulty. Maybe he should reconsider his earlier opinion, Grant might be able to make it into the Turks if he tried, "Carry on."

The yellow materia flared and Grant opened his eyes, "He's in that direction. About two miles away," Sephiroth's gaze moved in the direction the cadet was pointing. His lips tightened, that wasn't a good thing…two miles was the…

"The SOLDIER barrier is one and a half miles that way." Anderson spoke his thought aloud.

Sephiroth set off quickly, the three cadets falling into a run behind him. The further they went the denser and wilder the forest got. Soon it was more like a jungle than a forest and the general knew they were getting into dangerous territory. He felt a shiver run up his spine as they passed through the barrier; all of the monsters in this area were beyond any cadet's capabilities. It was filled with monsters from all reaches of the world, the most dangerous being the ones from the northern continent. His jaw clenched as a frustrated roar met his ears; he broke into a run, knowing full well that the cadets behind him could not keep up. Nevertheless, there was no choice; he knew that scream, "They've run into a Malboro, I need to get there as soon as possible."

He didn't bother waiting for an answer, bounding off in the direction of the roar. He was cursing the hardheaded recruits; they should've listened to him and stayed put. He arrived at a scene that didn't bode well for Zack's squad, Orion and Howell were both crumpled on the ground—knocked out, they were still breathing—Strife still stood, but just barely. His grip on the handle of his weapon was extremely tight, and he and the blade were the only things between the monster and his teammates. He was otherwise unharmed, save for a long bloody gash on his arm. From the greenish tint of the skin around the wound, the Malboro's poison had taken hold.

The giant tangle of tentacles pulsated and writhed before the boy. A gaping mouth was the only feature discernable in the creature, deadly teeth ringing the orifice. Severed tentacles littered the forest floor, and a still living one shot out of the main mass only to join its fellows on the ground in a silvery flash of steel. The blonde panted from exhaustion, his breath coming in uneven gasps as he struggled to keep his blade steady. The monster screeched in pain as it recoiled its stump of a limb before launching several more at the cadet. His movements jerky with fatigue, the blonde managed to dodge or cut the first few tentacles, but three more looped around behind him, diving for the cadet's unprotected back. Sephiroth leapt out, the Masumane shining as he drew it out of its sheath and engaged two of the three monstrosities. He made quick work of the mobile weapons, only to turn around and find the third plunge into the blonde's shoulder. The boy's body jerked and he shuddered in pain. A wrack of coughing overtook him, blood dripping to the ground.

_Possible Internal Injuries, _Sephiroth thought, cleaving the tentacle in half and yanking the embedded portion out. The longer it stayed in the more toxin Strife would absorb. He caught the blonde in his arms as the boy toppled backwards, sword falling limply from his hand and clattering the ground. Masumane met a similar fate, except that Sephiroth's abandonment of his weapon was voluntary. He shifted the unconscious boy into the crook of one arm, holding out the other one and pointing it at the monster. The Malboro screeched and shuffled forward, thinking that its prey was caught at last.

Sephiroth hung his head, his bangs shadowing his face as a pale green light began to glow around his hand, an even brighter light originating from an orb of materia on his armlet. The green fire shot from his splayed fingers, engulfing the monster. A screeching shriek pierced the air; Sephiroth knew it wasn't the monster. It was the shriek of the dead, the cry of departed souls that had returned to the Planet when they left their mortal shells behind. It was the muted sound of the LifeStream, the well of energy that must be tapped into in order to cast Ultima, the most powerful magic spell to date.

When the flames died there was nothing left of the grotesque monster that had come close to ending the lives of half of Zack's squad, Sephiroth turned his attention to the wounded blonde in his arms. He quickly took stock of the injuries. He wasn't doing too well, besides the obvious wounds there was also possible internal damage and the poison. Malboro's were one of the most poisonous monsters in the entire world, their toxin would be lethal to anyone who did not have the tolerance that mako gave them. Luckily, the boy in his arms had that tolerance; else, there would be no way for Sephiroth to save him unless he had a mastered Heal materia. As it was, he only had a low-level one, not enough to get rid of the poison, but he could use it to slow the spreading and buy them some time to get Strife to the infirmary.

Sephiroth tightened his grip on the blonde, grabbing the Masumane and sliding it back into its sheath. He didn't have to wait long before the rest of the cadets showed up, "Vitalis!" He barked, "Toss me the Heal Materia, then check the other two!"

The brunet nodded frantically and pried two emerald green spheres out of the slots on his belt, tossing one of them to the general before scuttling off to check on the other two members of the fallen team. Sephiroth caught the materia with his free hand and turned his attention back to the poisoned youth in his arms. No cadet should have been able to last against a Malboro for that long, but somehow Strife had. He had even been able to continue fighting while being poisoned. Usually victims of the Malboro's poison had their strength sapped too quickly to be able to put up any defense. Zack hadn't been mistaken when he said the boy was more talented than he let on.

Sephiroth's fingers clenched around the crystal sphere, feeling the magic within spark to life as he fed it his energy. An answering green light danced around the wound, the boy's own mako assisting with the process.

Sephiroth tossed the orb back to Vitalis and glanced at Grant and Anderson who stood to the side, "Can any of you carry them back to the infirmary?"

Anderson's hand rose, he was by far the strongest in the group. Sephiroth nodded, "Anderson, take Orion. Vitalis help Grant with Howell."

"What about Cloud?"

"I've got him." The General tucked his other arm under Strife's legs, shifting him so that the cadet was lying across his arms in a slightly more comfortable position than the one he had been in before, "What are you three staring at? Move!"

A/N: Not as long as it originally was, but I decided to split this chapter up. It's a good stopping place no?

Not as revised as I like, but I can't really think of much more to do with it. Zack and Vinny show up next chappie, and we find out exactly what happened with Cloud's groups. It's kinda obvious though…


	9. Part II Ch IV: Rain Check

Part 2 Chapter 4

"Boo!"

Vincent glanced over his shoulder at the man who had managed to almost sneak up behind him. He gave a wry smirk, eliciting a startled look from the SOLDIER, "You failed again, Kightblade. I heard you open the door."

"Drat." Zack pouted, crossing his arms over his uniformed chest. "Why can't ya just let me think that I managed it? I'd be perfectly happy for the next week or so." the SOLDIER paused, before adding, "and just call me Zack, okay? 'Fair' makes me feel like my dad. So what're you doing here?"

"You need to earn it, Fair." Vincent's shoulders rose and fell in a dismissive gesture, "Aeris has her garden here, you?"

Zack glanced toward the front of the church and easily spotted the pink-clad girl. She was kneeling in a patch of flowers that grew out of a hole in the wooden floor, "Just visitin' old memories, I guess. I used to come here before I joined SOLDIER. I haven't been back in years and I just finished my mission in Sector Four so I have extra time…Well…not really extra time…but I'm sure Seph can handle my squad for a bit longer."

"Seph?" The name rung a warning bell in Vincent's head but he couldn't remember where he'd heard the name before.

"Sephiroth," At Vincent's blank look Zack gaped at him, "You've never heard of Sephiroth? Where've you been for the past twenty years, on the moon?"

"Nibelheim," He leveled the black haired man an uninterested stare, "Should I know him?"

"No wonder…Nibelheim is in the middle of nowhere. But even they get news of General Sephiroth." Still no reaction, "He's the leader of ShinRa's Elite SOLDIER unit and almost single-handedly responsible for winning the Wutai war. He's also my superior officer and part time friend."

"Oh…Why would he agree to watch your squad?"

Zack chuckled, leaning against the back of the pew Vincent was seated in, "He didn't have much choice in the matter. As his friend, I have lots of blackmail ShinRa would kill to get their hands on. Of course, I wouldn't _actually _tell them…but he doesn't realize that. On the other hand, he could just be humoring me…either way works. I just hope he doesn't train them too hard; I actually like a few of my students. Especially one of them, but he just annoys me so much at times. Keeps callin' me sir, I keep thinking Seph is standing right behind me or something…Unfortunately he's also the most skilled in the squad…"

Vincent couldn't help the subtle smirk that Zack's words brought to life. He had to admit; the other man did draw the silence away. Normally he wouldn't even consider letting a ShinRa employee near his charge, but Zack was like an open book to the ex-Turk. This was not the first time Vincent had run into the SOLDIER beyond their first meeting and he knew it wouldn't be the last. He didn't really mind the SOLDIER's mindless chatter anyway, it was a handy distraction and Zack didn't expect the taciturn ex-Turk to join in like Aeris did. In a way, the jovial teenager reminded him of Cloud.

Zack's stories about his squad's misadventures over the past few months chased away the loneliness that Vincent usually felt when shadowing the flower girl. Not that Aeris was trying to ignore him or anything, but a shadow is supposed to follow and watch unseen. That was why Vincent had chosen a seat in the back of the church instead of in the front near Aeris. Zack's stories helped fill up the time, and yet at the same time did not distract him from his charge. However, despite the SOLDIER's seemingly open attitude, he never gave anything about himself away in his stories. Zack's past was as much of a mystery to the gunner as Vincent's was to Zack. Surprisingly they both liked it better that way. Of course, that didn't stop Zack from trying to pry.

It had become a game between the two men, to try to see who could get more information out of the other. Neither of them had a real clear lead, Vincent had years of training under his belt and Zack was just plain stubborn, but the challenge kept them entertained. Zack had been in the middle of regaling Vincent with yet another tale of when Aeris finally noticed his presence, "Zack! What are you doing here?"

She scrambled from her feet, brushing the dirt from her dress. The black haired SOLDIER paused in mid sentence, he had forgotten that Aeris was there. There were times when he would focus almost intently on the flower girl, and there were others when he completely forgot about her, "Err…nothing much Ms. Gainsborough, just keepin' Vincent company."

Something flashed in the flower girl's eyes but was soon replaced by that same sweet smile, "I'm glad. I've been trying to get him to lighten up since I met him."

"I am right here." Vincent reminded them both, somewhat annoyed that they were talking about him. Zack had the decency to look sheepish, but Aeris just smiled that knowing smile, clapping her hands together, "I know! When do you have to be back at the barracks?"

"Um…" Zack scratched his head uncertainly, "Technically, now…but my mission briefing said I had until eight to report. Why?"

"Why don't you join us for supper then? I don't think my Mother would mind. Do you, Vincent?"

The gunner shook his head. Zack's face lit up at Vincent's acceptance. It was one thing for Aeris to say it; she seemed to be trusting by nature. However, he knew enough about the black-clothed man to guess that he did not trust easily. The fact that Vincent was even letting Zack near his charge, knowing that he worked with Shin-Ra, was a miracle in itself. His grin was practically blinding, "I'd love to!"

Of course, as fate would have it, his PHS chose that very moment to ring harshly. He sighed and glowered at it, pulling the device out to check the number that flashed across the screen. He deflated, throwing Aeris and Vincent a disheartened look, "I need to take it, it's the infirmary."

He flipped the device open and pressed it against his ear, giving an irritated greeting to whoever was on the other end, "This is Lieutenant Fair."

Pause.

"The General called? What'd he say?"

Silence.

"_What!?"_ He yelled—no, it was more like a shriek—at the person on the other end of the connection, "I'll be right there." He flicked the phone closed and stuffed it in his pocket, "Can I take a rain check on that invitation? One of my students is holed up in the infirmary, something about a bad reaction to the medicine."

Aeris gently touched his arm, "It's okay, and the invitation is always open. Just drop by the house any time."

Vincent's eyes closed as he nodded in agreement with the flower girl, "Another time then."

-

"I told you not to give him that." The first thing that Zack heard upon reaching the infirmary was Sephiroth's icy cold voice. He nudged open the door, peeking in carefully to assess the situation. There stood Sephiroth in all his glory, full six foot one height towering over a person whom Zack assumed was a doctor. Zack shivered at the frozen look in Sephiroth's eyes, he wondered what had happened to get his friend so angry. The doctor had only told him the bare minimum, that Strife had been admitted to the infirmary, so he didn't know the exact details. The doctor shook under Sephiroth's anger, trying vainly to explain himself, "W-we didn't know about Cadet Strife's condition! Lieutenant Fair's squad wasn't due for a medical exam until tomorrow!"

"What's wrong with Cloud?" Zack demanded, pushing the door open fully and announcing his presence. If there was anything wrong with his cadets someone would pay…The doctor jumped at the chance to get away from the general and quickly scurried toward the lieutenant, "T-the G-general brought in the boy with a severe case of Malboro poisoning-"

"How'd he get near a Malboro?" Zack rounded on the General, "I agreed to let you take them into the Standard training grounds, not everyone is all powerful like you!" Sephiroth's eyes flashed, but Zack could clearly see that his words had hurt him, "I did take them to Standard." Sephiroth said coldly. The doctor shivered, the temperature seemed to have dropped ten degrees, "I split them into two teams, and trusted Strife, Orion, and Howell to stay by the gate. I returned to find them missing. Apparently, they wandered into the SOLDIER grounds. I managed to get there before the Malboro killed any of them, but Strife was badly poisoned."

"That doesn't explain why he's still in the infirmary. The medical staff always keeps anti-toxins on hand."

Sephiroth half-turned his head to look away, "You are aware that your student has natural Mako in his blood correct?"

Zack nodded, "Yeah, what about it?"

Sephiroth tilted his head toward the cowering doctor, "They gave him a normal anti-toxin."

Sephiroth swept out of the room as Zack's yells filled up the infirmary. It was not as if he didn't care about the boy—of course, he was concerned the cadet had been his responsibility. He just didn't feel comfortable in the same room as his lieutenant at the moment. Zack's comment on Sephiroth's strength had hurt. The General knew he had a problem understanding the limits of un-enhanced humans, but that didn't mean Zack had to rub it in his face like that. He knew that Zack was just worried about Strife; the SOLDIER always became a little irrational when it came to the safety of someone under his responsibility. Nevertheless, it did not make it hurt any less.

"Sir…?"

Sephiroth pulled himself out of his melancholy thoughts and glanced at the black-haired cadet that sat patiently in one of the plastic chairs outside the infirmary, "What is it, Grant?"

"A-are…" He paused, as if trying to gather up his courage, "Are you alright sir?"

Sephiroth half-turned toward the nervous scout, a perfectly sculpted eyebrow arching as he settled back into his indifferent persona, "Yes…why?"

"When I used sense earlier…" Grant paused uncertainly, obviously unnerved by the General's blank stare, "I sensed a…large amount of mako in you…enough that there should be fatal side effects—how is that possible?"

Sephiroth shifted uncomfortably at the line of questioning, but at the same time, he was impressed with both the kid's observation skills and his bravery in actually confronting him about it. At long length he let out a resigned sigh, "I'm the General, Grant, I'm supposed to be able to do the impossible."

"But even human beings have limits…" Grant whispered to himself, but he didn't press the General anymore. Sephiroth was grateful, the boy was far too smart for his own good, and he had touched too close to the truth for his peace of mind. His enhanced hearing caught the whispered words and he shook his head ruefully, _therein lays the root of my problem._

_--_

"Ungh…" Zack's head snapped up and he moved his chair closer to the hospital bed. As soon as he had finished harassing the doctor for his stupidity, he had all but demanded to be led to where his blonde student rested. Luckily, it was far enough away that he hadn't been woken by noise and commotion caused between Zack and Sephiroth.

The black-haired SOLDIER studied the form that lay on the bed, noticing the faint green glow that had danced around his wound had faded. That was a good sign; it meant that all of the poison had finished being removed from his system. Zack quickly settled himself at the edge of the bed, "Hey spike…are you okay?"

"Zack…?" The boy's voice was faint as glowing blue eyes opened, "What happened? I feel like I've been hit by a truck…"

"You must be out of it." Zack chuckled humorlessly, "You're calling me by name…" His expression grew serious, a rare mood for Zachary Fair, "What do you remember?"

The cadet pushed himself into an upright position, putting his hands to his head, "Not much…Gwydion was getting restless after the General left…All of a sudden he announced that he was going to look for the general and left. Kyros and I didn't want to leave him alone so we followed. We finally convinced Gwydion to turn back when both he and Kyros were knocked out by a blow to the head. I couldn't just leave them there so I stayed and fought…I can't remember anything else."

"Seph found you," Zack said quietly, making a mental note to talk to Howell about following orders, "He also killed the monster. He brought you back here and since you were poisoned the doctor administered the anti-toxin—the standard kind that reacts violently with mako." He paused, giving the blonde a thoughtful look, "Maybe we should tell them about your condition. Just in case something like this happens again. The doctor who gave you the anti-toxin knows already."

"NO!" The protest tore from Cloud's throat with such force that it made Zack reel back in surprise, "They can't know! It would be bad…very bad. Please Zack—" The blonde was practically begging him now, "Don't tell them! Don't let them know I'm different!"

The SOLDIER First was torn, but at length he conceded to the cadet's insistence, "Fine…but you had better start working on leveling up your own Heal and Restore Materia. If this happens again…I won't hesitate to inform them."

"Thank you…" He leaned back down on the bed, nodding off soon after. Zack just put his head in his hands, moving off the bed and back into his chair, "I'm a pushover aren't I?"

"Yes."

Zack didn't even have to look to know who it was, "Thanks for trying to make me feel better."

The silver-haired general merely shook his head at the sarcastic remark, closing the door and leaning back against it. "What do you want, Seph?" Zack sighed into his palms, "I'm not really in the mood for your brand of teasing right now."

"I can tell." Sephiroth's cat-like eyes moved to the blonde on the bed, "I wanted to make sure he was alright."

"Why do you care?" Zack asked bitterly, although he regretted them the instant they left his mouth. He just wasn't in an apologizing mood. Sephiroth understood this, but it still hurt to have that tone directed at him by his best friend, especially after their earlier argument. He stiffened involuntarily before replying in an empty monotone, "Strife was under my command when all this happened, and of course I feel responsible."

Zack winced; he hadn't meant to make Sephiroth clam up again. It was a defense mechanism of sorts. The General always became...somewhat detached when hurt. If he didn't do something quickly, it would take him days to get the silver-haired man to open up again, "Look…Seph…"

He could feel the General's eyes on him and he continued, "I-I'm sorry…I'm just angry at the world right now. I'm angry at Howell for running off, angry at the Doctor for not listening to you, angry at you for not keeping them in sight, angry at Cloud for wanting to hide, and mostly angry at myself for not being there."

There was a moment of strained silence before Sephiroth moved away from the wall, wrapping his arms loosely around Zack's shoulders in an awkward hug, "I know…pretty bad day, no?"

"Mmhmm…" Zack nodded, leaning back into the General's stiff embrace. He knew what Sephiroth was trying to do, he was trying to comfort him in his own way, "The only good thing was that I ran into Vincent and Aeris today…"

"Vincent…" Sephiroth repeated, trying to place the name, "Right…he's the gunner you became obsessed with about a month back…"

"I'm not obsessed." Zack scowled softly, it darkened when he saw a familiar gleam in Sephiroth's cat-like eyes, and "I'm not."

"Oh…?" One silvery eyebrow rose in question, "I'd say you were. After all, you did go so far as to root through Shin Ra's records—an unsuccessful search I may add—in an attempt to find out more about him."

"I'm not obsessed." Zack pouted quietly to himself. Sephiroth just shook his head in exasperation, his silver hair dancing with the movement, "Sure…"

The SOLDIER First class growled at the general, "Just because I have friends outside of Shinra does not mean I'm obsessed." The comment didn't get a rise out of the general, so the only things that Zack had to nurse his wounded pride was the fact that Cloud was going to be alright, and that Aeris hadn't retracted the invitation.

A/N: about half as long as usual, but that is because I had cut the chappie in half n.n; I couldn't think of much else to add.

I luff the Vinny and Zacky friendship. It's so much fun, and if Zacky can get through Sephy, he can get through Vinny right? I find it so interesting to write cause I've yet to see it elsewhere (I haven't really looked, but meh) and it's impossible, canon-wise.

Next chappie will have Vinny-Aeris interaction, Vinny-Zack, and possibly Cloudy-Seph. Possibly, I dunno. If people want the Cloudy-Seph interaction part (possibly even pull in a few of the other cadets) tell me. It's not pre-written like the rest is, but I feel that I've been neglecting those two charries...not on purpose...but Zack and Vinny are fun to write for reasons already explained...

But yeah, review and tell meh your opinions! I like them very much. Very much...


	10. Part II Ch V: Chocobo Ties

Part 2 Chapter 5

-Five Days Later-

Cloud was bored. With a capital B. He'd been locked in the Infirmary for a few days now, for 'observation' the doctor had said. He was fine, and he _should_ have been able to leave by the second day at the most. He had a feeling Zack was behind the delay, wanting to make sure that there wasn't any more of the antidote inside his blood stream, and he appreciated the concern. But being confined to a hospital bed, doing nothing but sleeping was starting to get to him, and the recent dreams were really feeding his need to get out.

The doctor with his impeccable white coat spawned nightmares of some other doctor-like figure—though his mind kept insisting that it was some sort of mad scientist—and left Cloud itching with the desire to _leave_ although every other time he tried Zack or someone else had intercepted him within a few minutes and bodily escorted him back to the room.

A sound from the entry to the room drew Cloud out of his funk and he looked up, half expecting it to be the doctor again. Or failing that, he expected Zack. The actual visitor was neither of the aforementioned people, and Cloud quickly stopped himself from gaping as the silver-haired man pulled the door shut behind him. He scrambled out of bed, slightly ruffled and confused, just about to snap into the customary salute when the general stopped him with a shake of his head.

"Sir?" Cloud asked, trying to find a way to ask his question without sounding bewildered. In the end he gave up the useless venture, deciding to just straight out ask what the general was doing in the infirmary.

Sephiroth raised a silvery eyebrow in slight amusement before shrugging, "I heard from Zack you were still in here. Why?"

Cloud echoed the motion, however it lacked the customary grace and control that thrummed in every one of the general's movements. The jerky, non-fluid element of his own was a testimony to his annoyance at being confined to the room, "Hell if I know. But I do know two things. I am perfectly fine, and I want out."

Sephiroth couldn't help a flash of sympathy, he himself had often seen the inside of a hospital room as a child—indeed he had lived in one for the first ten or so years. Coming to see the boy himself, Sephiroth couldn't help but question his subordinate's refusal to discharge the irate blonde. It was really odd; he was obviously back up to full capacity if the way he paced around the room was any indication, faintly reminding the general of a caged animal. Maybe…

Cloud continued pacing for a few minutes, stretching muscles that had little exercise since his run-in with the toxic monster. He'd managed to sneak in some basic practice moves when the doctor had left him alone (which didn't usually happen unless the white-coated man believed him to be asleep) but overall he'd been confined to the bed, and Cloud never had been one to sit meekly by—his escape attempts were obvious indicators of that.

Eventually he noticed that the general had slipped out again, and didn't think anything of it, after all Sephiroth was the most important SOLDIER in the entire army, so he was probably quite busy. He kept up his furious pace; enjoying the feeling of stiff muscles loosening and the distraction the exercise gave him. He was so absorbed in the movements that he failed to note the reappearance of the General, a small folded piece of paper in hand.

Glowing green eyes watched the cadet for a few minutes, traveling back and forth, back and forth, as the teenager walked the breadth of the room. He couldn't help but wonder how the cadet was able to, well, not really ignore, but not acknowledge his presence the moment he set foot into the room. Sephiroth wasn't an egomaniac; he didn't have an over-exaggerated vision of his importance, but every other cadet, and even a majority of the higher ranks generally stopped and gave him some sort of notice. The only ones who could brush off his commanding and looming—he mentally thanked Zack for the description—was his aforementioned subordinate and Hojo himself. It led Sephiroth to the conclusion that it was a trait shared by those who were used to his presence, yet he'd only just met Cloud the day he'd been poisoned. Maybe it was the near death experience, they always gave a SOLDIER—or anyone, really—a new view on everything.

Cloud was so comfortable in his presence that he didn't realize the general's arrival until the SOLDIER cleared his throat, drawing slightly glowing blue eyes to meet green ones. Sephiroth brandished the paper he held, tossing it toward the waiting blonde, "I've gotten the doctor to approve you for leave. Take advantage of it."

Cloud's expression went from puzzled to flabbergasted, hovering in the bewildered spectrum before finally settling on confused gratitude. He caught the paper, unfolding it and assuring himself that it was indeed the order to his freedom, "Sir? I—Thank you."

Sephiroth gave him a small smile—nothing more than a twitch of the lips—before letting his usual authoritative countenance slide over him like a cloak. He cleared his throat before turning his back on the cadet, readying to leave, "I don't want to see you back in this infirmary, you understand cadet?"

The general could imagine the gratitude melting into a wide grin, just as he heard the blonde's heels snap together in an obvious salute, "Yes Sir!"

--

Where to go, where to go. Now that he was finally free of the bare white walls of the infirmary Cloud wasn't quite sure what to do. There wasn't much he could do in the compound without running the risk of running into Zack before the SOLDIER 1st received the news that he had been discharged. Maybe he should take advantage of the break in training and head down to Sector Six, training as well as his recent stint in the Infirmary had prevented him from seeing Vincent and Aeris in a while.

Mind made up, he left the building, following the compound's circular path toward the front gate. He flashed the guards his pass—basically a Get out of Jail Free card that he'd found folded inside his leave forms, signed by the General and everything—and waltzed right out the gate, taking a small amount of pleasure in the thought that Zack would flip if he found out.

…The man had kept him locked up in a hospital room for far too long; Cloud was entitled to a little grudge.

Since it was the middle of the day the streets of Lower Midgar were busy, people going here and there about their every day life. He watched them for a little, wondering if the large dark-skinned man had opened his bar yet, but resisted the urge to go check it out. He'd decided long ago that he wouldn't seek out the people in his dreams—well, beyond Vincent, Zack, Aeris, and the General, anyway—he had no right to intrude on their lives.

Scooting passed Wall Market, an image of a frilly purple dress was pushed forcefully from his mind, Cloud soon found himself in the residential district of the Section. He knew the path by heart, taking the elusive alley between the last building and the wall. It was very difficult to find the entrance if one didn't know what to look for, the dirt road didn't seem like more than a dead-end from the main Zone. It was only once the walker followed the path, noticed the lightening of the ever-present gloom of lower Midgar, the small shoots of grass poking through the graying soil, and finally the picture-esque white gate that they realized just what they stumbled upon.

A small smile lit the blonde's face as he spotted the large white house, closing the gate behind him as he continued to follow the path to the house. A quick knock on the door brought footsteps from inside, and the portal swung back to reveal an older woman with graying brown hair and a kind face.

"Cloud!" She exclaimed happily, moving aside to admit the boy into her home, "Aeris and Vincent aren't home yet, but they will soon. I'm just making dinner."

"Anything I can do to help, Elmyra?"

"Of course. Why don't you stay for dinner as well?"

The door closed.

-An hour later-

"Mom! We're home!" Aeris' voice echoed through the house, following behind the sound of the door closing. Elmyra looked up from where she and Cloud were setting the table, "We're in the kitchen!"

Footsteps followed the declaration, and the flower-girl appeared in the doorway, "Mmm, something smells goo—" She cut herself off, letting out a faint cry of delight, "Cloud! It's been a while!"

"'lo Aeris." Cloud would have waved, but he had a piping hot dish in his oven-mitt protected hands. He would have said more but the girl moved, clearing the way for not one, but two other people to enter the room.

"Cloud." Vincent stated, a pleased tone coloring his voice. Cloud grinned, glad to see the marksman was well, nodding a greeting to him as well, "Heya Vincent."

"SPIKE!?" The last voice was more startled than pleased, drawing Cloud's eyes to the third and final member of the group. He was surprised to find himself face to face with the man he'd been annoyed with for the past few days, and from whom the General had liberated him. A wicked smirk crossed his face, and this time he did wave, shifting the dish to one hand and giving the SOLDIER a cheery greeting, "G'afternoon Commander."

"What are you doing out of the Infirmary!?"

He spun around placed the dish on the counter, pulling off a mitt and withdrawing his leave/discharge notice. He flashed it at the gaping 1st Class, "I've been officially discharged from the Infirmary, sir."

Zack was quiet for a moment, before groaning, "…Seph…"

Vincent chuckled at the entire affair, finally linking Cloud to Zack's troublesome cadet. Aeris laughed, not really understanding the affair but finding the proceedings humorous. Elmyra just blinked, counting the number of people before saying, "Oh dear…I think we may need some more plates."

-One Month Later-

"Wow! I've never left the city before!"

Aeris used her hand to shield her eyes from the onslaught of sunlight that was usually quite painful for the normal slum dweller. It really was a shame; the sun was so beautiful when it was allowed to shine naturally. Most slum dwellers didn't have much contact with natural light, born in the slums, die in the slums—most never even made it above the plate. Aeris counted herself lucky, she was used to seeing the sun due to the gap in the plate above her house, it was one of the few reasons her garden thrived. Vincent rolled his eyes at her enthusiasm, not really comprehending the reason for the bounce in her step, for the awe in her voice; the land outside of Midgar was nothing but a wasteland. Aeris' small garden was far more impressive.

The journey from Midgar to the Chocobo Ranch and back was a good two-day journey by foot alone, but the fact that Vincent planned to ride the return trip would enable them to get back just as the sun was going to set. It had been almost a year since Cloud and Vincent had left their birds at the ranch, and they had finally saved up enough money to house the two Chocobos at the Midgar Stables. It hadn't been very hard to get the money, it had just taken a longer than usual time to accumulate enough. As a cadet in ShinRa's military program, Cloud's paycheck was not very great, but the blonde sent what he could in order to reach the desired amount. Just the day before the blonde had handed over the last of his contribution, asking Vincent to fetch the birds the next time he had a free day. Having a chocobo stabled nearby would be an asset in the coming years--he was getting close to finishing his training and was well aware that they would be sent out on missions soon, regardless of whether or not he got a high enough score on the ShinRa Military Exams to be scouted for SOLDIER. It would cut down costs in the end; SOLDIERs had to pay out of their own pocket to rent one of the birds from ShinRa. Vincent really hoped it wouldn't come to this— but they would also provide a reliable method of transportation should Hojo ever stumble across Vincent's presence in the city and Cloud's connection to the doctor's former guinea pig.

Cloud hadn't paid for the entire twenty thousand; doing so was far beyond the limits of his monthly salary. Vincent had helped foot the cost as well, earning money by killing many of the monsters that lurked in the slums and selling off the items they dropped when defeated. Twenty thousand Gil was a ridiculous price for two chocobo stalls, but in the end, the positive outcomes from the action would save them either even more money, or their lives.

Vincent hadn't wanted Aeris to come along on the trip, but the flower girl had been insistent. She hadn't wanted to be confined to the house while he was away—her mother had forbidden her from ever going out of the yard without Vincent or Zack's company—and as fate would have it, Zack couldn't have gotten away from Headquarters anyway. Eventually she had gotten him to allow her to come along; there was just something about Aeris that made it very hard to say no to her, even for Vincent.

Vincent's thoughts drifted away from his brown-haired charge and toward the cheerful SOLDIER. He didn't know when Zack had become such a casual part of his and Aeris' lives. After those first couple awkward meetings, Zack had just eased his way into Vincent's very short list of people with whom he actually enjoyed spending time. The only others who had ever made the list were his foster family, Cloud and Lucia. Aeris and Elmyra he didn't mind being around, but neither of them had quite made _the_ list yet.

While he didn't doubt his reason for letting the black-haired SOLDIER hang around, he sometimes wondered why Zack kept coming back. He knew that the other's interest was once based on curiosity alone, was it still, or had it surpassed it into a borderline friendship? The last time Vincent had seen him he couldn't help but voice his question.

"_Why do you come back?"_

Zack had been uncharacteristically quiet then; apparently, he hadn't been expecting a question of that sort. It had taken a while to answer, and frankly, Vincent didn't think it really answered the question at all.

"_I don't really know. I like it here."_

If the gunner were to be completely honest, he would admit that he liked having Zack around. He even had begun to look forward to the SOLDIER's visits; Zack was a person who did not _know _things the way Cloud and Aeris did. He didn't feel sympathy like Mrs. Strife did. He was a new start, someone he could get to know on his own time. Zack was not a faceless coworker like the many of different Turks and SOLDIERs he had met in the past, but he also wasn't unnervingly familiar like Cloud and Aeris…He just was.

Zack was a distraction from the demons both in his head and in his past, a voice to fill up the lonely silence that he tended to wrap around himself. Aeris talked to him from time to time, but it was not the same. She was too quiet, too reserved. Her words did not draw him in as Zack's could. The silence would have driven him mad at one point, toppling his already unstable psyche over the edge and into the demon's grasp. His mind had never fully recovered from the nightmare that had once haunted his waking steps, but in Nibelheim he hadn't really noticed; Cloud and Lucia had chased away the darkness that had clawed at his soul. However, here in Midgar, with his only anchor on sanity sequestered in the SOLDIER Headquarters, the shadows had returned.

"Vincent," Aeris' voice pulled Vincent from his dark thoughts. He glanced at the sky, noting that they should be nearing their destination any time. Aeris followed his gaze, but shrugged when she could not realize what had caught his attention. She twirled her weapon, a delicate white wooden staff, before leaning it back against her shoulder, "What're Chocobos like? I've never seen any up close."

"They are birds. Big yellow birds," Vincent said flatly, his blood red eyes shifting to the girl who walked at his side, "Birds that seem to like the taste of my hair."

Aeris threw back her head and laughed at the image of a big yellow bird chewing on a scowling Vincent's hair, her long braid dancing as her shoulders heaved with mirth, "That's a funny image. So…what're their names?"

"Zero and Sol. Don't laugh." Vincent added when he saw that her shoulders began to shake again. Aeris covered her mouth with one hand, "Someone wasn't really creative."

Vincent glared at her, but the effect was lost when they crested the hill. Aeris let out a happy shout, "There it is!"

The gunner didn't say anything but began to make his way down the hill, following the excited pink-clad girl as she almost ran the last mile. Aeris was a conundrum. She was just so…so…happy, but at the same time very perceptive. She was usually so mature…but then she just turned around and acted so much like a child. As he watched her pause at the edge of the enclosure, he suddenly remembered a memory from so long ago; it was an image of a child, from the time before he left Kalm to join the Turks. A traveling circus had come to the small town and had set up a small petting zoo on the outskirts of town near his childhood hideaway. Vincent had always been a rather shy, but curious child. He had sat in the bushes for hours, watching the delighted expressions on the children's faces as they touched the animals. He could see that same look on his charge's face as she caught sight of the nearest chocobos. A duo of birds had wandered away from the main flock and the larger of the two began causing a scene as they spotted his approach. Vincent put his hand to his head and gently kneaded his temple, Sol was mad at him for leaving her there for so long. He knew it was Sol causing the ruckus; he could easily see the streak of darker yellow feathers near the tip of the wings.

The owner of the ranch, Choco Bill, came out of the house, having been drawn by the Chocobo's noises. He took one look at the pair before realization dawned, "Mr. Valentine! My, it's been so long."

"Indeed." Vincent replied as the man ambled over, "I wish to transfer our Chocobos to the Midgar Stables."

"I'd been wondering when you'd arrive to do so, expecting it even. Most military types come 'round to do so roughly a year later." The gunner's eyes narrowed, wondering how Bill had deduced that they—or Cloud, to be precise—were military. Either Choco Bill missed the look, or he did not choose to comment, "How is young Mr. Strife anyway? Have you left him behind for a fairer companion?" He smiled teasingly at Vincent's charge. The gunner rolled his eyes, his lips twitching behind the red mantle—he had chosen to wear his old clothes since there was no chance of Hojo discovering him this far from Midgar. His new outfit was nice, but he still preferred his old ensemble, it was far easier to move in, and the mantle managed to hide his arm, "Cloud couldn't come today, and Aeris is my…charge."

"Ah…is that all?" The man laughed and shook his head. Abruptly he paused, as if he just recalled something, "Ah yes…I have something for you."

He ignored the gunner's confused inquiry and ambled off to the large barn that housed the Chocobo stables right behind the paddock. He returned moments later carrying a large oval shaped object. Upon closer inspection, it was revealed to be…"An egg?" Aeris moved away from the fence and peered closer, "Why does Vincent get an egg?"

"Well…about that…" The owner sounded rather embarrassed, a faint pink coloring his face, "A few months back we had another customer, a rather ambitious young man with a black chocobo. One day Billy accidentally let the bird out and it got into the pen. Two eggs resulted from the incident… The young man—Joe I think his name was—took one egg and told me to give the other to the owner of the other chocobo…"

Vincent took the egg without another word, supporting it gently in the crook of his arm. He had to be careful, while it might be covered, the sharp ridges of his metallic arm could possibly harm the egg. He winced as he felt a tug on his hair and glanced behind him, sighing in exasperation as he realized that he was still standing by the fence of the enclosure. Sol had stretched her neck over the wooden barrier, capturing yet another lock of his hair in her beak. Vincent didn't even try to convince the bird to let go, he knew it would be useless. In the end, he just ignored the small pain in his scalp, noticing that Choco Bill was still talking, "I'd take care of it for you as an apology, but all of the stables are full at the moment. Unfortunately I also don't have the energy to try and keep up with a Chicabo in the pen; Billy is too young to handle a Chicabo."

"We can keep it at home." Aeris look positively glowing at the idea, "We can convert that empty section of the garden into a small stable or a coral. Mom won't mind, she's always had a soft spot for baby animals."

"Good, good! I'm relieved. If it turns out anything like the father it'll be an impressive bird when it matures."

Vincent didn't pay much attention to the owner as he began getting the chocobos ready for travel. Sol had finally released his hair, and the gunner was too preoccupied trying to prevent the situation from occurring again. Luckily, Sol had decided to behave, and soon she and Vincent were both demonstrating to Aeris how to ride a chocobo correctly. She picked it up rather quickly and soon they were ready to depart. Zero moved uneasily beneath Aeris' light weight, but didn't try to dislodge her or anything. The chocobo was just a little annoyed that Cloud wasn't there.

The gunner shook his head and threaded his fingers through Sol's bright yellow neck feathers, keenly aware of the extra weight of the egg in his arms. He was very nervous about transporting the egg all the way back to Midgar. Chocobo rides were not very smooth by definition, and all it would take was the slightest jerk against the raised metal ridges on his arm to break through the shell. Unfortunately, he didn't have any choice in the matter. Aeris wasn't experienced enough to attempt steering with one hand and Vincent could not hold the reins with his claw, he'd end up cutting them in two.

Sol shifted uncomfortably beneath him, turning her head to look at him with one big black eye. She squawked impatiently, eager for the journey to begin. Vincent sighed and glanced to where Aeris had been riding Zero around the perimeter of the ranch, getting used to directing the bird, "Finished Aeris?"

"I think so." The brunet drew back on the reins, slowing Cloud's chocobo to a walk and maneuvering him over to where Vincent and Sol waited, "I've just never done this before!"

It turned out that Vincent's fear had been unfounded; Sol had taken painstaking care to choose the smoothest path to avoid any unintentional damage to the egg. The dark gunner suspected that the yellow birds were far more intelligent than most people gave them credit. The journey itself had been rather uneventful, and the return trip to Midgar was a lot shorter on chocobo-back. In a short three hours, they were back at the gates of Midgar, just as the sun began to dip below the horizon. Both Aeris and Vincent dismounted the chocobos once they reached the gate, leading the birds to a large building just inside the city proper. Vincent couldn't help but notice that the Midgar Stables were a lot more elaborate and better kept than most of the houses in Lower Midgar—AKA the Slums.

The manager of the stables studied the duo appraisingly as they approached, eyes flickering to the docile pair of birds. He was a nondescript looking middle-aged man, but the ex-Turk could see the edge in his stance. Most people in Midgar did not use the stables, due to ridiculous prices. The only ones who did were ShinRa's SOLDIERs and merchants. "Ya here fer business?"

Vincent nodded slowly, "Two stalls."

"Yer money first, ten grand per bird," Vincent reached into his cloak before pulling out a decent sized bag and depositing it in the manager's outstretched hand. He quickly stowed it away and gestured to the inside of the building, "Thank-ye sir, bring them birds this o' way."

Vincent motioned for Aeris to grab the reins and lead them further inside. The flower girl did as asked, following the gunner as he disappeared down the aisle of the stable. They passed many empty stalls, but Vincent could easily see the clipboards hanging beside the doors and the metal nameplates above them.

At last the manager stopped in front of a stall without a nameplate, "'ere at the Midgar Stables we group the birds by rating. What're these?"

"Rating?"

He sighed, "The bird's ratin' o' course! Darn city folk, they don' know nothing about Chocobos nowadays."

He peered closely at the two birds trailing behind Aeris, "The male is a pretty good 'un…but the female…she's one o' the better I've seen. Where'd yeh find 'em?"

"Nibelheim Area."

The man's eyebrow rose, "That area's usually full o' average birds, the better ones are pretty hard ter find in that region. Did ya catch 'em?"

Vincent shook his head, "My companion did."

"One o' these birds his?" The manager had started moving again, bustling around and checking the equipment hanging in the stall, "Ye'll have ta give me 'is name ta register the bird to him."

Aeris suddenly remembered something, smacking her forehead lightly with the back of her hand in annoyance, "The owner of the Chocobo Ranch told me to give these to you." She pulled a manila folder out of her knapsack. He took it, flipping through the pages within, "Ah, Yer former customers o' Bill. Good man he is, a fine judge of chocobos. So the female 'Wonderful' bird is years and the male 'Great' is this Cloud-character's."

The man took the reins from Aeris and with a soft word coaxed Zero inside the stall. After much shuffling and squawking, he had the bird settled in. The manager took a set of papers from the manila folder and attached them to the empty clipboard on the wall. He then took Sol's reins in hand, glancing briefly at the egg being carried gently in Vincent's arms, "I take it Yer going ter raise that 'un yerself?"

Vincent nodded.

"A word o' advice, Build a pen, chicabos love ter run."

-Next Day-

Zack whistled softly to himself as he passed through the residential area of Sector Six, making his way down the well-worn path that led to Aeris' house. It had been well 'nigh a month since he had last been able to sneak away from Headquarters to see Vincent and Aeris, and he found himself missing their company. Things had been overly busy at work, what with the SME coming up in a few weeks. It was the exam that would determine the fates of his students; he had done all he could for them in the year they had been under his command. In the end, he wasn't too worried about their prospects; they had greatly improved since the beginning of training. The fact that Zack…convinced Sephiroth to train with them at least once every other week while he slipped off to Lower Midgar seemed to have had a hand in that.

While Cecil and Gwydion might not quite have what it takes to get into SOLDIER, they still had their own talents. Cecil Anderson himself had decided to forgo the exams and take up a job in the Air and Space Department. Fighting was all and good—according to him—but it held nothing against the sky. Gwydion Howell had expressed an interest in Mako Sciences, especially after he had learned about his own teammate's plight in the days following the Malboro Incident. He still wanted to get into SOLDIER, but he had a scholarship for Midgar University to fall back on if he wasn't scouted. Galen Vitalis also had shown some interest in Mako Sciences, but his mind and heart were dead set on becoming a fully trained medic, something that Zack fully encouraged—there were not near enough competent field medics.

He didn't worry about Kyros Orion; the A Class cadet would be able to pass the exam without much difficulty. Herne Grant was already being watched by the Turks, the First Class SOLDIER hadn't been surprised when Tseng—an old friend of his and the leader of the Turks—had approached the black-haired cadet with an offer that most cadets wouldn't even dream of refusing.

Cloud Strife though, Cloud had turned down the offer that Tseng had also extended to him. The blonde had only one goal in mind and nothing short of the apocalypse could dissuade his from taking his chosen course. Cloud wanted to join SOLDIER, and Zack had no doubts that the talented blonde would get in. The cadet was already a class above what Zack had been when he had been scouted; Zack had gotten in as a Class A.

Cloud was a Class S, the only one in the entire program.

Zack couldn't help but be proud of his kids, and it annoyed him greatly that his time with most of them was almost up. Sure he'd see Cloud, Kyros, and perhaps Gwydion in SOLDIER, and maybe Grant around the Headquarters but it wouldn't be the same. They wouldn't be _his_ kids anymore; they'd be his comrades…

He shook his head, spiked locks flying with the force of the dismissal. The exams were still weeks away, he could worry about it then. Right now, he wanted to visit his…well he really didn't know how to label Vincent. He wasn't sure what the dark gunner thought about their peculiar relationship, but he considered Vincent a friend. He didn't really know what it was that drew him to the taciturn man; it wasn't purely curiosity anymore. Zack also didn't really know when his motive had changed—from curiosity to sincere friendship.

He pushed open the gate of the dainty white picket fence that surrounded the large—large for Lower Midgar anyway—lawn and stepped into the sunlight that filtered down through the gap in the plate. This plot of land was one of the very few places where such gaps existed, and Zack suspected it was one of the reasons that Aeris' garden grew so well, even in the almost lifeless earth. True sunlight and rain managed to find its way through the gap, and the flowers grew tall and beautiful under the flower girl's nurturing touch.

He glanced at the garden that blossomed just to the right of the quaint white house, flowers and shrubs rising high enough to obscure even Sephiroth's tall frame with their leafy boughs. Since it was spring, the green walls were splashed with color, petals of varying shapes and colors flowered from the veil of leaves.

He admired the blooms before he directed his gaze to the double-story white house. Zack found himself wondering why Aeris' mother still lived in Lower Midgar, if she had enough money to live in and take care of such a large house then she probably could've moved up into the less shady Upper Midgar. Speaking of Aeris' mother, he spotted the older brown-haired woman sitting on the porch, "Elmyra!" He called the woman's attention to himself. They had met a few times when Zack came by to spend time with Vincent and Aeris; she was a nice woman, a little cautious but nice nonetheless.

"Zack," She looked up from her sewing and smiled kindly at him, "I was wondering when you would show up again."

"Eh…heh…"Zack laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of his head with one hand, "I've been givin' my kids some last minute instruction for the upcoming SME."

"Is it exam time already?" Elmyra shook her head, "Time has passed by quickly…Anyway you have a good time young man, Aeris and Vincent are out in the garden."

"Thank'ye ma'am," He tipped his head toward the kindly woman, "'twas nice talkin' to you."

"Think nothing of it. You know you are welcome any time you like." She laughed, "You are practically part of the family."

Zack thanked her once more before continuing on his way, heading around the house to find the entrance to Aeris' maze-like garden. As he traveled deeper inside he became aware of a soft banging sound somewhere to his right. Not really feeling like getting lost in the leafy maze, he cupped his hands around his mouth, "Vincent! Aeris! You guys here?"

Something crashed just to his right and he heard a soft grunt of pain quickly followed by Aeris' concerned voice. He briskly made his way toward the sound and soon found himself in a little used corner of the garden. A wooden structure had begun to take shape within the wall of greenery; it looked like a little hut without a roof. He moved closer toward the structure and noticed a ladder leaning against the wall. Aeris knelt at the foot of the ladder, murmuring worriedly at a red and black bundle on the ground.

"Zack!" The flower girl turned around sharply, shooting a disapproving look at the SOLDIER, "Don't do that!"

"It's fine Aeris. I'm sure he didn't mean to startle me." Vincent's voice drifted from the pile of red and black as it moved to a sitting position. Zack couldn't help but stare; he had never seen Vincent in anything other than his black ensemble. He liked this one better; it seemed to suit the dark man well, gave him a bit more color to his pale-but-not-sick-pale skin.

The most radical change in the outfit was the addition of a high-collared red cloak that rested on his shoulders and flowed down to his ankles. The top part, which obscured the bottom part of his face, was securely belted shut by two buckles, followed by one more just below that. There were two others, but they were left undone and hanging. The ends of the cloak were tattered, but that only seemed to heighten the article's intimidation factor. Beneath the cloak was an outfit similar to his old one, except that the shirt was actually a shirt and not a sweater. His right hand also still sported that same shooting glove and something gold glinted within the many folds of the cloak, but was hidden away before Zack could get a good look at it.

Vincent stood up, brushing the dirt off his pants with his right hand, the left stayed noticeably absent. Zack raised an eyebrow before giving the gunman an appraising look. "What were you doin' on the ground?"

Vincent rolled his blood-red eyes, "I fell, idiot. All of your yelling threw me off balance."

Aeris giggled, trying—and failing—to stifle the sound with her hand. Zack adopted an affronted look, "What? Is it officially 'Pick on Zack Day'?" The SOLDIER waved his arms in emphasis, "First Sephiroth threatens me with a weeks worth of Janitorial Duty and now you two are making fun of me!?" He huffed irritably, muttering, "No respect…"

The flower girl managed to control her mirth for a few moments, just long enough to speak, "What did you do this time?"

"Uh…nothing?"

"He made the General watch his squad." Vincent's airy voice drifted down from his perch on the ladder. He had climbed back up and continued hammering nails into the boards that held the structure together. That explained what all the commotion was about. Zack also wondered how he was managing to do that with only one hand, "How'd you know?"

"Simple." The gunman glanced down at the fuming SOLDIER, "You are here, are you not?"

Aeris dissolved into laughter and Zack crossed his arms in annoyance, "Stupid smart vampire…"

"You just contradicted yourself." Vincent shot back, "I can't be both stupid AND smart." He paused in his hammering, adding almost as an afterthought, "And I'm not a vampire."

"Gah!" Zack threw his arms into the air in an overdramatic display of exasperation, "The walking ice cube has a sense of humor! The world is doomed!"

Zack quickly ducked the hammer that was tossed at his head, watching as it clattered to the ground behind him, "Alright already, no need to get violent. You win." He picked up the tool and handed it back up to the irate gunner, "What are you making anyway?"

"A chocobo stall."

"Oh…that's nice." He paused and blinked, taking a few minutes to process that statement, "Wait, wait, and wait, a _CHOCOBO _Stall?"

"Yes, Vincent received an egg from the owner of the ranch when we went yesterday." Aeris handed Vincent another plank of wood to nail on.

"ShinRa forbids those birds anywhere is the city! Well…except the stables of course." Zack knew that these two held no love for the company, but he didn't think they would blatantly disobey the law.

"They don't have to know! Please don't tell on us. Please?"

Zack knew he could not stand up against Aeris' pleading voice and wide, hope filled eyes. He muttered softly to himself, ("I'm gonna get fired for this…") and coughed before speaking loudly enough for both of them to hear, "Fine, I won't. But I get to name it."

"Okay." Aeris said, just as chipper as she had been before Zack brought up their illegal activities, "In that case, you go up there and take a turn; Vincent's been working all day. Vincent!" She raised her voice so that the gunner could hear her over the bangs of the hammer, "Let Zack do some of the work now, get down here and take a break."

Zack was tempted to ask why she wasn't helping, but refrained when he found himself staring at a vacant ladder. He blinked, "Vince…?" Glancing around the enclosed space, he found Vincent sitting at the base of a small tree, the only tree that had taken root in the entire garden, "Vince-"

"Leave him alone, Zack." Aeris laid a restraining hand on his arm, "He hasn't been looking too well lately."

Zack studied the sharpshooter, whose crimson eyes were closed in rest. Now that he looked, he could see a strange pallor to his skin. Of course, Vincent was almost paper-white on a good day, but this was worse than that. Today the gunner looked a sickly pale instead of the normal "I don't go out in the sun" pale. Vincent sat with his back against the tree-trunk, his head rested lightly against the rough bark and his shoulders rose and fell with every breath. Zack smiled subtly, watching as the gunman's guarded stance relaxed as he drifted off to sleep. The SOLDIER felt honored that Vincent had felt safe enough to sleep in his presence, "Yeah, he has to be tired if he fell asleep that fast. Do you have any idea what's wrong?" He kept his voice quiet, an uncharacteristic action for the normally outspoken young man. Aeris hesitated, but shook her head at last, "No, not really. Something has been keeping him awake at night; I guess it's either nightmares or memories…"

'_Or maybe both'_

-

"Vince, you gotta wake up." The gunman blinked his eyes open, staring up at the young man who had woken him. Zack sat back on the ground in front of the gunner, reminding him vaguely of the dream from which he had just woken up. He couldn't remember the last half of his dream…but the first had been unpleasant…

Zack smirked at him, "Sorry for wakin' ya sleepy-head, but you've been asleep all afternoon. I can't stay much longer to keep the lovely lady company." His smile slipped when he saw the gunner nod, "Hey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Zack." Vincent intoned quietly as he rose to his feet, thinking idly back to what he could remember of the nightmare, "It was just an unpleasant memory."

"Oh?" Vincent could almost see the black-haired SOLDIER warring between curiosity and worry; eventually curiosity won out, "What was it about?"

The gunner glanced at the warrior out of the corner of his eye. He was tempted to withhold the information. But in the end he decided to humor his friend, the wily SOLDIER would probably bother him about it until he gave in. Plus, it wasn't like he had to tell Zack everything—he hadn't even told Cloud everything. Not that he had to, Cloud seemed to know anyway. "Just an encounter with a very evil man, a man I wish I could just forget entirely."

"No details for me, eh?" Zack smiled ruefully, "'tis okay though, I really didn't expect an answer at all. You're a lot friendlier than Seph in that aspect. He wouldn't have even told me that little bit." The SOLDIER scowled, "It took me ages just to get him to speak to me civilly. I guess you could just chalk it up to being "The" General," Zack mimicked the quotation marks with his fingers, ", and me just being a newly promoted First Class…but he _still_ has that anti-social complex…" He paused, as an idea seemed to dawn on him, "H-hey! Maybe I could drag Seph down here to meet you…and Aeris as well." He added the flower girl as an afterthought, "It might just be good for the both of you…that is if it's alright with you and Aeris. I know how much you despise The Company." He paused, looking at the gunner thoughtfully, "You know…I never really figured it out. If you hate ShinRa, why are you here? Why do you put up with me?"

Vincent was caught off guard by the suddenly serious questions. The first answer was easy, it was the second that he had to stop and think on for a moment. He kept forgetting that Zack was a member of SOLDIER, and as such was under complete control of the ShinRa Corporation. The man was such an anti-thesis to everything Vincent associated with the company, "I'm here looking out for someone—not Aeris." He added when he saw the way Zack's eyes flicked toward the tip of the house that could be seen over the shrubbery and flowers, "I hate the company because of one man, which does not mean I despise those who work for them indiscriminately." Vincent flicked a lock of hair out of his face, his lips twitching into a wry smile that was hidden behind his mantle, "I understand that working for ShinRa is some people's best option; or only option in the case of fighters." As was the case with me, the gunner added silently.

"So true," Zack laughed softly, moving his hand to flick an imaginary tear from his eye. On the other hand, it might have been real; Vincent couldn't tell with the way Zack's face was angled, "Personally, both Seph and I would rather be anywhere but under that…" Zack muttered a few unsavory words under his breath, his eyes turning to glare up at the plate accusingly, "…_man_'s thumb. But the only things I'm good at are computers and fighting, both of which you can't do anywhere else other than ShinRa for a decent wage…and Seph…" He paused, "Well, he's too valuable to the higher ups…" He sighed, abruptly very serious, "Sure I could probably become a mercenary and get a pretty good pay working for Fort Condor or Wutai, but I can't just leave Seph here. I don't doubt that if he had a choice he'd leave too, but I doubt they'd let him go…"

"I understand your reasoning. Cloud is following a similar path, getting closer to the company in order to help someone." Vincent's lips curled into a bitter smile before he said, "He always speaks in riddles."

"So do you, my dear friend." Zack clapped the gunman lightly on the back, "So do you."

Vincent shrugged, nudging off Zack's arm, "And you are so annoyingly transparent."

"Someone has to be," Zack replied promptly, shaking off the seriousness of the former topic, "With so many stiffs like you and Seph around I have to take up the burden of being social."

"Really," Vincent deadpanned, half-turning to regard the completed chocobo stall. Zack had somehow managed to put a roof on it while he was asleep, "You do a good job of it."

"Thank you." The SOLDIER beamed cheerfully, "But enough flattery, there is a set of lovely ladies waiting for you at the house and I'd better go save my squadron from Seph, I just hope he's not taking his anger out on them. They don't need to be holed up in the infirmary ("Again") for their tests." He stuck his hands in his pocket, "Send me a message when the egg hatches, alright?"

Vincent nodded and began gathering up the tools scattered around the gardens, "It shouldn't be for another month."

"After the exams then, that's good. I'll have more time to be down here then." He waved lightly to the gunman, tapping his fingers against his forehead in his own little salute, "See ya then, Vince."

Zack turned and began to walk away. Vincent paused in his search and retrieval mission, watching the man's retreating back. Before he was out of sight Vincent called out, "Zack! The answer to your second question…"

The SOLDIER paused and glanced over his shoulder, head tilted questioningly. The light of the setting sun filtered through the gap in the plate, highlighting Zack's spikes of black hair and setting it ablaze in red and gold. Vincent took a breath before shaking his head, "…nevermind."

Zack looked confused for a moment, before he shrugged it off. He had a good idea as to what his friend had been trying to say. Some people just had a hard time saying it.

A/N: Finally done! Not sure if this chapter is up to par, but I refuse to fiddle with it anymore. Cloud was soo uncooperative, reminding me why I prefer Vinny and Sephy's viewpoints. Heck, even Zack's. There isn't much Cloud POV in the original draft, just cause I liked leaving him a mystery.

Hope it was worth the read, and drop a comment if you liked it. Or even if you hated it. I love feedback—if something doesn't seem right, tell me how to fix it!

Now…off to sleep…'m about to pass ouuzzZZZzzzZZzz


	11. Part II Ch VI: Exam Prep

Part II Chapter 6

"You know…you reeeaally could have told me that you knew Vinnie. I've been talking about him every once in a while to either you, or the entire squad, yet you said nothing!" Zack vented to the recently released cadet, still quite irritated over the most recent development in his attempts to uncover a certain friend's past. He felt jipped, cheated, a valuable resource had been under his nose the _entire_ time! Vincent had probably known, or at least guessed, if his lack of reaction to seeing Cloud in the Gainsborough home had been any indication. It just wasn't fair!

"If it's any consolation, I didn't tell Vincent either." Cloud chuckled, sitting in the center of the commons area, cleaning his sword. It had been a few days since then, and once Zack had the doctor make sure that Cloud was fit for duty, he'd given into his commanding officer's order to let Cloud return to training. He wondered when Sephy and Cloud had gotten all buddy-buddy, the General didn't usually take an interest in the lives of mere cadets, but in the end had given in to their efforts, and Cloud had been released with little to no fuss, the man still in shock that his second-best buddy (as he'd decided to call the gunman, Sephiroth was considered his first) knew his best student, hell, from what he'd seen between the two at the table they were practically considering each other family!

"Besides," Cloud continued, holding his sword at eye level to insure that he hadn't missed any spots. For some reason Zack didn't understand Cloud was mighty picky about the shape of his weapon, he understood the need to take decent care of it, but getting nitpicky over just one fingerprint was going slightly overboard. "It was fun listening to you guys talk about each other."

If Zack were a dog, his ears would have perked at that statement, but since he was most assuredly a man, he had to settle for leaning forward a little bit more, putting his elbows on his crossed knees to show his heightened interest. "Really? Vince talks about me?"

"Yes,Vin_cent_ does." Cloud rolled his eyes, accenting the last syllable of the name as a jab at Zack's tendency to give things nicknames. Zack just waved off the correction, if he'd managed to get Sephiroth to accept being called Seph, or even Sephy if he was feeling particularly playful, then Vin_nie_ would have to deal with it too.

"What's he say?" Zack's fingers were twitching, he wanted to know! Vinnie's mind was nearly as foreign to Zack as Sephiroth had once been and he wasn't looking forward to the long years that it would take to tear down the walls and get used to it. Any inside help on Cloud's part would be highly valued, although he had a feeling that such assistance wouldn't come easy.

"Not tellin' sir."

…sometimes he really didn't like being right. Cloudy was a good student and all, very patient and diligent when it came to figuring out Zack's tangled teaching methods, but he still went out of his way to be a pain when Zack wanted to know something outside of the squad hierarchy. Sure, he could probably get Cloud in trouble with some obscure, highly stretched charge for mocking a commanding officer, but where was the fun in that? Zack's old teacher had done it more than a few times, such a cheeky little brat he'd been back then!

Zack cracked a small smile, thinking back to the days when he'd have been in Cloud's place, hanging out in his squad's quarters, making cracks at the CO, figuring out which end of the sword was the sharp end…

Sometimes he wondered if he was the only CO who actually made cracks at the guys in power with his squad. Probably. Zack knew he was pretty unique when it came to his attitudes, oh the looks on his kid's faces when he'd appeared that first day, sat down on the floor like he was one of them, and then began telling an embarrassing story including a particularly annoying hall monitor that he'd heard the boys complaining about before he'd even come in. Most of 'em didn't even treat him like a commanding officer anymore, more as a senior squad mate. Most of 'em…but not Cloud.

The boy, for some obscure reason, had resisted a few of Zack's attempts to deepen the camaraderie between them to something a bit more than superior and subordinate. It wasn't that the kid was anti-social, nor was it that he seemed to dislike Zack's company (the opposite was quite true on both accounts). It was quite odd, because there were quite a few times when he'd just plop down next to the blonde and start talking, and soon they'd be goin at it like they were old friends, and then there were times when the blonde would all of a sudden pull away, as if catching himself doing something he wasn't allowed to do.

None of the others had any problems. Just Cloud.

"Hey, Cloudie." The black-haired SOLDIER tried to grab the blonde's attention again, deemed a successful venture when bright blue eyes turned on him questioningly, "Where'd you an' Vince meet?"

"Nibelheim"

Ookay…one word answer. A little elaboration would be nice…

"How?"

"I woke him up." Sensing a common theme in the conversation Cloud seemed to loose interest, going back to mechanically rubbing the cloth along the silver sheen of his sword.

"Maybe a few more details…?" Zack pressed.

"I'm not gonna tell you any more sir." Cloud responded, setting the sword lightly on the ground next to him, rising to his feet before slipping the blade back into its sheath on his back, "Vincent's past is up to him to share, you won't be able to cheat through me."

_Drat._

"Come on Cloudie...! Just a little hint? I won't be able to see him for a while! Not until the exams are over!"

"Speaking of them…" Cloud pausing, tilting his head, "We aren't going to be taking them as a squad, are we?"

"Nope, sorry kid. You'll be in groups of three, but you won't have worked with your 'mates before the test."

"Ah. Okay. I wasn't sure."

His mind brought back to the exams left Zack chilled as Cloud retired to the bunk rooms, joining his squad mates in slumber. The boys had one by one drifted into the rooms, Cloud being the last one to hit the sack, the reason for him being Zack's sole victim when it came to questions that evening. Zack remained sitting in the center of the room, fingers buried in the threads of the whitish beige carpet beneath him as the very thoughts he'd tried to lose by hangin' with his squad came back in full force. He hadn't been very successful, and thoughts of the exams crowded mostly everything else out. They were less than a week away, and while his kids might be ready, he sure as hell wasn't.

They were his kids! What if something happened to one of them?

--

The day of the exam dawned at last, leaving a very nervous Zachary Fair in its wake. He had never been assigned a cadet squad before and he couldn't help but be afraid that he hadn't done his best with them. He really didn't want to think about what could happen if they weren't ready. The SME weren't normal exams; they were essentially a cadet's first SOLDIER mission. They were being split randomly into teams of three and sent out to varying locations all over the world to face either monsters or human fighters. Just like on SOLDIER missions, death was a very real option. Normally the concept of dying on the battlefield didn't scare him too much, but these were _his _kids. He had taught them everything (or almost everything) that they knew. That means that if any of them died it would've been his fault for not preparing them correctly.

"You worry too much." Zack looked up to find Sephiroth in the doorway. The SOLDIER First silently agreed with his superior, pushing himself off the bed and stretching the kinks out of his muscles, "I guess so…I'm just afraid one of them will die…"

"They won't. You know full well that SOLDIERs are being sent along as escorts. They are even making me go."

"Are you up to it? After last night, I mean." Zack asked his friend, he couldn't help the concern that leeched into his voice. Sephiroth's session with Hojo had been the night before; hence the reason Sephiroth had been in his quarters at such an early hour. They had been getting steadily worse over the last few weeks, getting to the point where the General felt severely drained the next day. Of course, Sephiroth's definition of drained would still put him at Zack's level.

"I'll be fine." Sephiroth waved off Zack's concern, "Just get ready, the exams start in an hour." The silver-haired man ducked out of the room, closing the door behind him. He sighed as it clicked shut, the world reeling around him. He put his hand against the wall to steady himself, waiting patiently for the attack to pass. He hadn't lied when he told Zack he'd be fine…eventually. He didn't want to worry his subordinate any more than he already was. It would distract the SOLDIER, and Zack had to be at his best for the SMEs. He had to escort one of the exam groups to their assignment and make sure that they weren't killed during the exams. Usually the instructors of that year's cadets didn't participate in any part of the exam—ShinRa feared it would compromise the integrity of the tests. Nevertheless, due to the great amount of SOLDIERs away on missions, they were rather understaffed right now.

Sephiroth righted himself as soon as he was sure that the dizzy feeling had passed, pushing away from the wall. He wished he could just take one of his pills, but he didn't want to have those things messing with his head when he was supposed to be responsible for three examinees. He'd just do what he had always done before he had met Zack--ignore it.

Sephiroth's wandering eyes landed on the door to the apartment, or more specifically under the door. Two yellow-colored envelopes were sticking innocently out from the crack between the door and the floor. The general sighed and crossed the living area of Zack's apartment, snatching up the missives before flopping down on his subordinate's couch to wait.

Zack reappeared from his room a few moments later, his black hair finally combed into some semblance of order, falling in downward turned spikes over the large metal weapon strapped comfortably to his back. His eye flickered shortly to Sephiroth on the couch before he focused on adjusting his uniform, "What'cha got there?"

"Orders."

Zack gave up on his uniform and caught the tossed letter. He broke the ShinRa seal on the paquet, removing the form inside, "How'd they know to send yours here?"

Sephiroth shrugged, he wasn't too surprised really, "Hojo makes it his business to know everything about me; I gave up trying to hide my activities from him long ago."

Zack shivered, his overactive imagination conjuring up an image of the oily-voiced doctor hunched outside the door, his long greasy grey streaked black hair tied at the base of his skull and thick glasses glinting eerily from beneath his jutting eyebrow. He was the very picture of a mad scientist if you just added in a stained white lab coat. Zack shook his head violently, throwing his attention into reading his orders in an attempt to banish the creepy scene. Sephiroth saw the motion and lifted an eyebrow, but didn't ask. He figured that he probably wouldn't want to know anyway, "It looks like you won't have to worry completely." Sephiroth said at last, putting the missive aside.

"Do you have one of them?" Zack asked, looking away from the unfamiliar names printed on the paper. He had a member from Squad 1, 8, and 15. He had to take them to Fort Condor, a refuge of Anti-ShinRa rebels located between the Mythril Mines and Junon, to quell a minor problem with the people there. According to the orders, there was an armed mass of mercenaries congregating around the Fort, but it wasn't a serious enough threat to warrant sending in a SOLDIER Third Class.

"Strife," Sephiroth crossed his arms, glancing up at the ceiling, "They're being sent monster hunting in the Southern Marshes. A large monster has been terrorizing the miners in the mountains; it seems to be an oversized Zolom."

"A marsh snake? Zoloms are not that dangerous."

Sephiroth shrugged, "I said it appears to be a Zolom from the description given, except it's far larger than the Marsh Zoloms. Since we don't have any reliable information to go on, I'm being sent as back-up." The general glanced at the digital clock on the wall and rose to his feet, "I have to be in briefing room C-6 in about twenty minutes."

"I have B-1" Zack didn't move as Sephiroth retrieved the Masumane from its spot against the wall and belted the long blade comfortably to his side. The black-haired SOLDIER First was not watching his friend's actions; he was trying to look a little deeper than that. His practiced eye could spot the certain set of his shoulders, could see the tighter than usual grip on the Masumane, "Are you sure you'll be alright? You know that your control is completely shot after your sessions."

"For the last time, I'll be fine." Green cat-like eyes gave Zack an irritated glare. Sephiroth couldn't help but be annoyed with his subordinate, even in his current state he could take on a platoon of trained SOLDIERs on his own. A mindless monster would hardly be a problem. He snatched up his orders as he left, giving his friend a curt goodbye before he left.

On the way to the briefing room, he realized that he was being childish; Zack was only concerned. He even went so far as to admit that there was valid reason for worry, especially since most of the days after his session were now spent on Zack's couch. Hojo had been getting more test crazy with every week that passed. He rubbed his right arm subconsciously, knowing that if his black overcoat hadn't had long sleeves it would have been easy to see the strips of off-white gauze that wound from just above his wrist to his shoulder. Zack had bandaged it the night before, when Hojo had decided to see how long it would take the wound to close after the doctor had sliced his arm open. Luckily, it only took a few minutes to heal, but it had still been red and raw, the slightest jar would reopen it. Indeed the wound had reopened on his weekly trip to Zack's quarters.

Sephiroth banished the memory of Zack's horrified face when the SOLDIER had removed Sephiroth's coat to see the long, red, dripping wound. He flexed his hand experimentally, wincing when his muscles refused to work properly. He would not be able to do much strenuous fighting with that arm. Hojo had horrible timing, but at least Sephiroth was ambidextrous, he could wield the Masumane with either hand.

The general passed like a wraith through the halls, ghosting past unenthusiastic SOLDIERs as they left their rooms and began to migrate out of the barracks and to the main building. The SOLDIER Compound was circular in shape, all surrounding the large domed area of the training center. From the First Class barracks and moving to the right, the next building was the gym, followed by the Headquarters, and then the Second and Third class dorms with the attached cadet Barracks. Still following the circle around the Training Center was the operations building—his current destination--and behind which the Medical Building was located.

He paused on the steps of the Operations Building, his eyes continuing the circuit. He would need to remember to take the examinees to the Weapon and Materia Depot; most cadets did not have any weapons of their own. With the thought successfully filed away in the back of his mind, he pushed open the door, his footsteps nearly inaudible as he made his way down the hall. He breezed right passed the A and B wings, entering the C section and finding the 6th briefing room with little difficulty. He had never really been in the Operation's Building before; most of his orders were delivered directly to his office on the upper levels of the Headquarters. He wasn't surprised to see the cadets already seated at the small round table set in the center of the room. A viewing screen sat against the far wall, used to display maps, stats, and any other information that was relevant to the mission. Now it stood blank, the scope of this assignment was not large enough to warrant the use of the screen.

Four heads turned as the door settled back in its frame, the examiner clearing his throat as Sephiroth took up his customary post near the wall, "Now that we are all here I believe it would be time to get started."

Two of the examinees gave the examiner a cursory glance before they returned their gazes to the General in the corner. Sephiroth noticed with an odd sense of satisfaction that Strife didn't so much as glance his way, the blonde was so used to the general's presence that it was not so much of a shock anymore. Privately Sephiroth wished it could be so with all of the cadets; if they didn't get over their awe and fear of the imposing silver-haired man then they would never be able to accomplish much on the field of battle.

The wiry ShinRa examiner shuffled the pieces of paper in his hands before pushing his thin glasses to the bridge of his nose and addressing the cadets, "As you all know, the ShinRa Military Exams are what determines your fate in the ShinRa Company. Perform well enough and you may be scouted for SOLDIER itself, but do poorly and your career will be worthless." He leveled a hard stare at the two inattentive examinees that immediately tore their eyes from the general and tried to listen to the man, "Due to the ambiguous nature of the mission being assigned to you the General himself will be supervising your test. He will be acting as both the examiner and the proctor, he will be there to both judge your progress and prevent any fatalities." He finished up with some remarks on the grading system before excusing himself, leaving the general alone with the group.

He resisted the urge to grimace as he felt all three pairs of eyes lock intently on him. He hated working with cadets more than anything else. They were just too inexperienced and immature. Never before had they actually been in real battle, in a kill-or-be-killed environment. They had never had to worry about dying before. Most cadets were young and green, too sure of their immortality that they either ended up getting themselves, or their team mates, killed. He unintentionally called up the memory of the Malboro incident the previous year, the fact that Howell had disobeyed him was the very kind of stupidity he despised. Luckily for him, Strife's brush with death had instilled a sense of mortality in the squad, making them tolerable to work with. That was a good thing considering the amount of times he had allowed Zack to con him into training them. Surprisingly Heidegger, the Head of Shin-Ra's Public Safety Maintenance Department (AKA the ShinRa Military) and a great horse of a man, actually supported and encouraged the General's involvement with the training of the cadets. Sephiroth supposed that the man was hoping that he would divulge his considerable skills and experience to the new generation of SOLDIER; Heidegger would condone anything that made his army more powerful.

He quickly derailed that train of thought, now wasn't the time to be thinking about the contempt he held for the horse-faced man. He studied the three cadets still seated around the table, silently making his own assessments and impressions of the three teenagers. Cloud Strife was as tranquil as ever, completely at ease in the General's presence. The other two, on the other hand, were a different story. Nayan Yamir, a rather small-built cadet of obvious Wutaian descent with mid-back length black hair and stone grey eyes, had managed to contain his nervousness and excitement under the grip of an iron focus. The other, Damon Bedros, was an excitable brunet with forest green eyes from the far off town of Icicle Lodge. Unlike Strife and Yamir, who were both sparingly built, Bedros was taller than average with broad shoulders and well-defined muscles. Concluding his examination, Sephiroth addressed them, "I will not directly interfere in this test unless one of your lives are on the line, so you are completely on your own. The mission details will remain unknown until I deem it necessary to tell you, no questions." He inclined his head in a 'come along' gesture, turning his back on the examinees. Chairs scraped across the concrete floor as the cadets moved to follow his unspoken command.

After a quick stop at the Armory to check out a couple pieces of less-common materia (it turned out that the adets _did_ have their own favored weapon) the group left the compound through the main gates. Sephiroth waited impassively as the guard checked over the papers authorizing the mission, he felt it was wasted time, but company protocol demanded it. Once beyond the fence of the compound he half turned to face his charges, "Do any of you own a chocobo?" He didn't really expect any of them too, the price to lodge a bird was impossible to achieve on a cadet's paycheck alone.

Strife's hand awkwardly rose, drawing odd looks from his teammates, "I do, sir." He intoned quietly with that same passive face, although Sephiroth could see a hint of nervousness in it. The general nodded once in acknowledgment and set off at a brisk walk, forcing the cadets to push their pace to catch up. He was heading to Upper Midgar's branch of the Midgar Stables, located in which was an elevator that passed through the plate and into the stable proper in Lower Midgar. Unfortunately, like the main branch, it was located at the edge of Sector Five, meaning they would have to walk from the ShinRa Building, the dead center of the city, all the way to outskirts. Of course it wasn't necessarily the walk itself that Sephiroth was dreading.

He became increasingly irritated as they traveled the streets of Upper Midgar. They were mostly empty at the early hour of the morning, but every now and then someone would make a spectacle of the illusive General of ShinRa walking down the city streets like the common folk. Sephiroth snorted to himself; if there was anything he disliked more than the company itself it would be what they had done to his image. He was one of the most recognizable people in the entire company, perhaps even more so than President ShinRa and his son Rufus. He absolutely detested the attention that it drew to himself, Sephiroth was a very private person and he did not agree with how the company had used his image, his involvement in the Wutai War, and his position in order to inspire fear and awe in the citizens under its control.

Not a moment too soon they left the streets, a lone bell chiming in the dim depths of the UMB Stables. A curly haired blonde woman sat at the reception desk, she was in the process of filing paperwork when Sephiroth strode up and dropped his orders right in front of her. The startled girl looked up at him in surprise before quickly averting her eyes and reading over the missive. She scribbled something down on the form before passing it back to the silver-haired general, "Just give that ter Earl down below."

He didn't acknowledge her words, instead choosing to lead the trio further into the building and to a rather large elevator, obviously built to handle a decent sized group of people. A rather pleasant looking middle-aged man met them at the bottom of the shaft, "Bonnie said ya were comin' down. I'm Earl." He greeted the nervous cadets before addressing the general. "Is it time fer the exams again General-sir?"

Sephiroth nodded, handing the completed form that the receptionist—Bonnie had filled out for him. Earl looked it over, "So ya got stuck with the Marshes? Good luck with that. So yer'll need three birds? Plus Jenova o' course." Jenova was Sephiroth's own mount, a black-colored chocobo, named after a mother he couldn't remember.

"Only two, Strife has his own." The blonde added his own affirmative to the General's statement. Earl thought hard for a moment before the proverbial light bulb flickered on in his head, "Cloud Strife?" At the blonde's hesitant nod he broke into a smile, "Yer friend, Valentine I think 'e was, dropped yer bird off 'bout a couple weeks back…Zero right?"

Earl led the group away from the elevator and down the isle of the stable proper, the large open room giving way to stall after stall of curious yellow birds. More than one of the chocobos stuck their heads over the half-doors, watching with mild interest as the new people passed. Earl paused and gave one of the birds a quick pat on the head before half-turning to face the group, "Since this is yer test ShinRa is payin' fer the birds, but any time after this and yer'll hafta rent one by yerself. One bird costs 1000 Gil," He glanced at Strife, "Yeh don't hafta hear this, go on and get yer bird ready. He's in the Great Section, stall 8."

Cloud gave the man a grateful smile before slipping off. The General followed him with his eyes before following suit, although he turned into a different section. It had been too long since he had seen Jenova.

--

"Uhm…General, sir," Sephiroth glanced at the Cadet that had addressed him, it was Yamir again. The A-Class Cadet had already finished readying his rented chocobo and was adjusting the harness straps. Bedros was across the small courtyard, having a one sided argument with his mount as he tried to coax the bird to letting him get close enough to put the harness on it. Strife had not rejoined them and Earl had taken his leave already, claiming that he needed to take care of some of the birds.

"Hm?"

"You still haven't told us the mission parameters." Sephiroth bristled at the cadet's flat tone, only years of conditioning allowing him to keep his annoyance imperceptible. Hadn't Yamir gotten the point when he said no questions? But before he could reprimand him for his disobedience he was interrupted, "It's the Midgar Zolom, isn't it?"

Sephiroth tilted his head, noticing the blonde-haired cadet that had exited the main stable, leading his chocobo to the courtyard where the rest of the group waited. The general did not speak for a few moments, "And where did you come by that information?"

A slightly nervous look slipped past Strife's guard before he flushed guiltily, "I-I overheard one of the examiners talking about it and when Mr. Earl mentioned the Southern Marshes…" He shrugged uneasily, "That's why we aren't taking a truck, right? Marsh Zoloms tend to hide when they hear a motor or wheels."

Sephiroth made a mental note to hunt down the tactless person who had given away the mission. He hadn't even known about it until that morning and yet from the sound of things Cloud had heard a few days prior. As it was, the silver-haired man didn't care enough to reprimand the cadet for his exceptional observational skills. The kid would've made a great Turk.

Cloud relaxed when he realized that Sephiroth wasn't going to get angry with him. The general closed his eyes momentarily, trying to ignore the ache that was building behind his eyes, "Strife is correct." He addressed the entire group, deciding that it would be as good a time as any to inform them of the mission, "I assume you are all familiar with a species of monster called a Marsh Zolom."

Yamir and Bedros nodded while Strife took over the task of placating the brunet's chocobo. The general continued, "It is a serpentine monster that lives in the Marshes to the south of Midgar, between the Chocobo Ranch and the Mythril Mines. Normally they don't grow any longer than a full grown man and are content to stay in the swamps. Recently there have been reports of one of the monsters heading into the mountains and the miners are getting nervous. It will be your job to either subdue it, or if it is beyond the scale of your abilities, engage it and record its attacks, strengths, and weaknesses so that a more suitable team can be sent."

Sephiroth looked over each cadet in turn as he spoke, wondering whether they all truly understood the scope of the mission. This wasn't just a test of strength, but of observation and of judgment. They needed to know when to quit, what to do when they evaluate a situation and find themselves lacking. There was more in the report than what he'd told them, keeping the information to himself as he'd been instructed to. ShinRa had already sent out a set of scouts on this mission, to have only one of them return intact, and he'd been scared out of his mind by the awesome power of the gigantic snake. There was a reason that Sephiroth himself had been assigned to this particular mission. Neither he nor the board of examiners expect a first time set of examinees, unenhanced by mako, to fight such a beast and win, even if they were the top three trainees in the program.

Sephiroth knew Strife's unexpected strength, his perception, and his decent materia skills. The report also spoke of Yamir's cool-headed leadership and strategic mind, praising the student who was only outclassed by the trainee that Sephiroth himself had helped train. Bedros seemed to be much like Strife, but geared more toward pure, brute force than complicated swordsmanship and weapon use. He had little to no magic skills, but they were made up with speed and pure stamina.

As the three chorused their comprehension, and Strife helped Bedros into the saddle of his –almost- unwilling chocobo Sephiroth just watched them. He'd find out soon enough if they were up to the task.

As he watched he rubbed his bandaged arm unconsciously, an action that wasn't missed by a pair of bright blue eyes.

A/N: Finished Woo! I'm just on a roll this past week. Having little internet access does wonders for the drive to type. When my Grandma isn' dragging me all over the place and I'm at home with nothing to do—I type! Sure, it'd been mostly Detective Conan stuff recently, but I'd realized that this story was owed an update. I'd just recently rehauled the entire plot after the SMEs, to be truthful I couldn't remember what I'd had before. There should be maybe…2 more parts after this one (parts, not chapters. No idea how many of them left there are.), just barely catching up with the beginning of the game as the story ends. Then again, none of the game will really happen, since Sephy will _not_ go insane. That was one of my whole purposes in this fic! I like non-insane Sephy.

There's a reason for Cloud's distance from Zack, it'll be explained by the end of this part, but if anyone is impatient drop me a review and I'll send back the line explaining it. It occurs directly after the SMEs, but before the transition to Part III so it's pretty soon, maybe a chapter or two or three depending on how long I make them.

Anyways, Parts three and four will be…shorter than this one, methinks. Dunno, depends on how much I stretch it.

Didj'all know that FDT has over 14k hits? I wonder how many of those are rereads and how many of those are individual people. Oh! I hath a question I wanna ask—has anyone (besides 'Cere) read this multiple times? 'm just curious.

Um, I know people point out that I'm neglecting this character or that character, but I have my reasons. Look at the way the story is set so far, and what I have planned for the last two. Each 'Part' focuses on the interactions between a certain set of characters.

Part I: Cloud and Vincent, Seph and Zack

Part II: Bit of Seph and Cloud, lots of Vince and Zack

Part III: Lots of Seph and Cloud, bit of Vince and Zack

Part IV: Zack and Cloud, Vince and Seph

Make sense? I'm not neglecting people! I'm just…not there yet.

Bleeeh…the part after this is gonna be the hard part. That last bit with Sephy was the last part I actually had something written for so…everything from now on is gonna be completely and utterly new.

Thanks everyone for the reviews so far! Almost 100...and it's for a story I'm actually _proud _of! I love you all so much! It makes meh feel good when someone takes the time to just drop a note and tell me why they like the story. Or even if it is pointing out something that I could improve, or that bothered them abit about the characterization or whatnot. I take all the suggestions/criticism into account in the later chapters, and once I finish this story I have plans to go back and add maybe a few more intermediate scenes so that Vinnie warming up to people isn't as…abrupt. It isn't, really, I just…have lots of time skips. Stuff happens between those…

Wow…I think I'm gonna stop this huge A/N now…See ya'll!

P.S: I've atually started working on the next chapter, so it might not be that long of a wait this time n-n;


	12. Part II Ch VII: Encountering the Zolom

Part II Chapter VII

The marshes, Sephiroth decided, were not a fun place to be. He'd never really paid attention to the small, murky swath of land between the Chocobo Farm and the Mythril Mines. He'd never actually had to travel through it, being the general, he was saved the long, hard trek over plains and through caves by being flown directly over the mountains. It was not something he missed doing, not if the heavy, murky air and constant insect pests were any indication. Sephiroth swatted at a particularly annoying bug, quite annoyed that the pests seemed drawn to the bright silver sheen of his hair. The soft mud squelched beneath his heavy boots, the brown dirt clinging to the formerly spotless black leather. Behind him he could hear similar sounds from his silent, somewhat downtrodden squad, following behind him like a bunch of chicabos toddling after their mother.

Sephiroth couldn't help the small snort at that mental image, thinking back to the birds they'd left in the care of one Chocobo Bill, the owner of the Chocobo Ranch. He was sure the cadets were cursing his decision, probably considering it an act of personal torture. Sephiroth had entertained such ideas himself; he did _not_ enjoy plodding through ankle deep mud, or needing to tie up his hair to avoid it getting caught in small, but painful, bushes. Unfortunately, chocobos were quite expensive, and since half the birds were rented they couldn't afford the death or injury of one of the animals during this test.

There'd been no sign of their target, nothing besides broken trees and large grooves left in the mud; an obvious sign to the snake's passing. On the whole the cadets didn't seem to notice the implication of the huge track, Cloud gave it a second look, but Sephiroth never could exactly read that boy's thoughts so he didn't know if he'd realized just what it was.

His thoughts were pulled away from the cadets, spreading his awareness out as much as possible to keep on the lookout for their prey. His sense of smell, although more powerful than that of a normal person, would not be much help this time. The putrid smell of rotting plants seemed to permeate the marshes, along with something that reminded him vaguely of rotting flesh…the Zolom had probably left a meal lying around somewhere. Either that, or it was an unfortunate traveler that'd gotten caught in the sticky fingers of the marshes.

Sound didn't have much to report either, aside from the expected thrum of insects buzzing lightly through the air, there was only the ever present sucking sound of a boot being pulled out of the mud, followed by the earlier mentioned 'squelch' of it sinking as soon as the step was taken. Sight wasn't helping much either, he could see nothing but miles of hazy marshland, flat and featureless unless one counted the sparse spattering of dead trees or the knee-high marsh-grasses.

Unfortunately all they had left to go on was the huge furrow they were currently trekking trough, Sephiroth figured it would lead them to the beast eventually. Either that or the sound of their passing would do the work for them and seduce the insatiable appetite that all wild monsters seemed to share.

Yamir had taken up the rear guard, one pale hand hovering near his short-sword at his side—or was it the gun that was holstered in nearly the exact same place? Sephiroth could see the tension in the unspoken squad-leader's movements, ever on the alert…

'_He has a leader's air.'_ Sephiroth mused, using this chance to observe the cadets, _'Instinctive probably. A rare trait. The others noticed it earlier and deferred to it.'_

Strife was next in line, situated a little to the left of the right-handed Yamir and talking to the Wutaian in a low, whispering voice. Sephiroth could have heard the words if he so desired, but decided to let the cadets have their secrets. He turned a critical eye on the blonde's stance. It was loose, and to a lesser man would have seemed completely off-guard. But he saw, he saw the readiness thrumming in every motion made. Strapped to his back was a smaller version of Zack's favored sword, apparently the use of the over-large blades had been passed from teacher to pupil.

'_He's so much like Zack…_' Not just in choice of weapons either, but in the way he carried himself, and even a couple mannerisms he'd observed on the trip from Midgar to the Marshes. He wondered if Zack realized just how much he'd affected his student—probably not. Zack, although he had his moments, was not the most observant of the bunch, usually letting other people do the watching while he did the talking. _'Yet different. Strife hardly speaks, and when he does, it is never the unnecessary prattle that spouts from Zachary."_

First in the little gaggle of ducklings, Bedros was nearly overflowing with nervous energy, alternating between jogging up directly behind Sephiroth and lagging back to the other two cadets. He was constantly cracking his knuckles, even going so far as to throw a few phantom punches in the air. Sephiroth figured that his main weapon was his fists, judging by the leather gloves pulled over his fists, and just the anxious display—

"_I_t_'_s _h_e_r_e.'

Strife's soft yet sure voice mirrored the general's thoughts exactly, just before the ground behind them exploded, raining chunks of mud and streams of water down on the small group.

Sephiroth drew back, letting the small squad of three assemble to confront the monster looming above them. The General stood silent, arms crossed, green eyes locked on the black silhouette that would determine the fate of the trio of boys who stood in its shadow. The snake, what Cloud had called the Midgar Zolom, swayed, standing nearly twelve feet in the air—twice as tall as Sephiroth himself. The cadets couldn't see it, but enhanced eyes could, the Zolom was testing the air, long serpentine tongue flickering in and out of a scaled jaw, drawing in all the information available to it.

Sephiroth snorted, shaking his head a little. If he'd been the one taking on this monster it would not last very long to decapitate it. His seasoned eyes easily picked up on the Zolom's weak spots; the softer hide on the underside of the jaw and neck, although the more reachable underbelly was covered in what seemed to be heavily armored scales. All it would take would be something sharp driven right up through the jaw and into the brain, instant kill.

Of course, he couldn't tell the cadets that.

"Now's your chance." He told them, raising his voice to be heard above the constant hissing emanating from the snake, "Remember your objectives."

A chorus of 'yes-sirs' around the group.

-

_Preeeey. It smelt prey. The two-legged ones again—why do they keep invading its territory? Food! To be food. All existed to be its food._

Unable to stand the hunger any longer, the snake lunged, throwing all of its bulk forward as it snapped at the humans before it. Great jaws met air as they scattered, and the snake hissed in agitation—_how dare the prey resist!?_ Yellow reptilian eyes watched as the little ones took up positions both beside and in front of the large body, weapons at the ready. A word from the black-haired one had them throwing themselves at the Zolom, weapons clashing uselessly against its protective scales. The snake watched the proceedings with amusement, a deep rumbling in its chest the only way to show the emotion. It swatted at the nearest human with its long tail, knocking the smallest into the black-haired one and leaving them an easy target for snapping teeth.

Not one to miss an opportunity, the monster lunged, almost lightning fast as it moved toward the pile of black and yellow that shone like a beacon in the grey swamp. Just as it was about to close its jaws, trapping the two children inside, it felt its jaws caught by something, a brown blur dancing in front of its eyes and then the teeth snapped shut, closing on empty air one more.

Infuriated, it reared back again, eyes roving for the snack that _should_ be on its way to be digested by now. At length it spotted them again, they were joined by the third child, and the black one was speaking again. The Zolom could easily hear the sounds made, but cared little for the squeals made by its prey.

Even if it was annoying prey.

Suddenly something hot and burning hit it in the side of the snout, causing the great head to rear back in surprise and more than a little confusion. Was it raining fire? It wasn't painful, just uncomfortable, especially when it was followed almost immediately by freezing cold and a stinging shock. The snake hissed in annoyance, its tail thrashing and throwing up mud around it. As the prey ducked to avoid the falling dirt and a few broken tree-limbs that had been thrown into the mix the strange attack abated, and its source was suddenly made clear to the semi-intelligent monster. The prey threw fire at it? Lightning and ice? Why? _How?_

Why? Why was the prey resisting so?

-

'_So materia is no good.'_ Nayan filed the thought away, remembering how the magic seemed to merely tickle the gigantic beast. Normal attacks hadn't done anything either, except leave them open for a counterattack. The Wutaian boy grimaced, remembering the attack that would have ended his life and that of his teammate—Cloud, he thought—if it weren't for the astonishing speed and strength that Damon had shown when dragging them out of the there, tossing off a set of weights and reaching a speed that Nayan thought was only achieved through mako enhancement.

Regardless, they had shifted attack patterns, deciding to circle through their different weapons until they found something that would do more than annoy the monster. Nayan lightly touched the sense materia nestled in his pistol each time one of his teammates threw one of their spells at it, judging just how badly it was hurt each time. The results were disheartening, the main elemental spells they had were nothing more than a light sting, and the status magic did nothing more than tickle it.

Black eyes glanced behind him, alighting on the General that still stood off to the side a bit, watching the fighting with an appraising eye. Did he expect them, three cadets who have only been in training for a year, to take down a monster of the level before them? This so-called Midgar Zolom was far more powerful than anything that Nayan had ever fought before, and that included the SOLDIER Third class that he'd often sparred with during his spare time. The Wutaian boy was anything but humble, and knew full well that he was far more powerful than the average cadet…

Yet the beast before him wasn't even flinching. It was just yawning and showing the wickedly sharp fangs that had almost closed around him once before, sending a stream of cold dread running through him, just as the poison likely slowly dripped down the long fangs.

An idea came to mind, and Nayan shot at the creature's eyes, hoping to blind it in an attempt to buy his team time. Cloud and Bedros were carefully checking each area of the snake's body for any kind of weak point, dodging the monster's slow, but heavy bulk. If he could blind the snake, it might rear up, and give them ample opportunity to see if the underbelly was any easier to pierce through.

Unfortunately, the beast merely blinked when the bullets came too near, covering the soft optical organ with much harder, and near bullet proof hide. Nayan groaned in frustration, and maybe even a little bit of fear. In terms of strength, they were behind. The monster seemed to be at least somewhat intelligent as well, so there was no way of turning its stupidity back around at it. It was even immune (or so it seemed by the lack of reaction that came from the low-leveled materia they'd brought along) to all the spells within their arsenal! They were way outclassed, so how could they be expected to kill this thing!?

And then, all of a sudden, the General's words came back to him, pulling forward the instructions that had been tossed aside by the cocky boy's disbelief. A small smile crept onto his face.

They didn't necessarily have to beat it. Just discover its weak point.

With a shout and a hand motion, Nayan drew in both Cloud and Damon, keeping half an eye on the snake as he outlined what he'd just discovered, almost missing the knowing look cross the blonde cadet's face. Had he known? If so, then why hadn't he brought it up?

--

Sephiroth nodded in satisfaction once the three broke apart again. They finally understood.

--

The prey was just being a pest now, why wouldn't it just hurry up and allow itself to be eaten? Most other prey gave in by now, and it was leading the snake to believe they were more trouble than they were worth. It probably could have caught a dozen other meals by now; been sated and sleeping contently in its den during the amount of time it had been trying to catch the three pests. They weren't even large pests, small and skinny, and probably not filling enough to be worth the trouble—it was even hungrier than it used to be!

It eyed the three humans distastefully, weighing the pros and cons of continuing the battle. Sure it was hungry, but was it worth the trouble the trio was giving it? The snake took in a quick survey of the surrounding area, wondering if there was any _easier_ prey.

There, hiding behind the three annoyances was another human. This one was a lot greyer, taller, and just overall older than the little ones. It was leaning on what looked like a shining stick, which was plunged into the muddy swampland that made up its home. The Zolom's limited intelligence quickly categorized the unknown male as an elder, probably defenseless due to the protective intensity portrayed by the three younglings.

The elder would be a much better target.

--

It all happened so fast. One second the thrice be-damned snake was trying to make mincemeat out of the three cadets, and then the next it was suddenly lunging away, making for a completely different, unexpected target.

"Sir!" Yamir yelled, the first to notice the snake converging on the distant silver and black watcher that was the General of ShinRa's armed forces. The other two cadets started at the yell, but the reation was completely different. While Damon, speed demon that he was, was still trying to figure out the situation, Cloud was already moving. The small blonde was moving with a speed that seemed uncanny while he was carrying the wide, heavy sword. He landed in front of the general just as the large snake neared the man, holding his sword out in an attempted to catch the beast.

The scaled stomach fell abruptly into the ground, spraying water and mud everywhere. Nayan took cover; the large bulk of the monster had smashed into a small thicket of trees and bushes, setting off a set of potentially harmful projectiles because of the speed they were traveling at. The Wutaian lay face down in the mud for a moment, holding his breath as he felt a few stones and pieces of wood dig painfully into his back. He was on his feet as soon as things had settled, wiping the disgusting slime off his face as he ran toward where the General and his teammate were having a staring contest with a snake that was at least twenty-four feet long, from the tip of its snout to the end of the scale covered tail.

The General stood straight and tall, exactly where the boy had seen him last, the only difference was his outstretched arm (his left, Nayan noticed with confusion, didn't the general prefer his right?) that held the bottom of the Zolom's jaw in a tight grip, not allowing the enormous reptile to continue its approach. The Zolom was obviously trying, the strain could be seen in its thrashing motions, and once or twice Nayan had to duck or jump to avoid the flailing tail that would most likely knock him unconcious if it caught him unawares.

Cloud still held his ground, sword disappearing behind the beast's armored bulk, and for a moment the Wutaian thought that perhaps the metal had snapped. But coming even with the group revealed the truth—several inches of the mini-buster were embedded into the snake's neck.

--

Several hours later, the mud-covered, exhausted team of cadets could see the gates of Midgar before them. Bedros gave an excited whoop, spurring his chocobo on with a quick kick of his heels. Where he pulled the energy from was anyone's guess, he'd seemed like the living dead since they'd left the marshes. The other two didn't seem to get the extra boost, both slouching in their saddles and letting the slow plodding of the yellow birds carry them in on their own time. A larger black chocobo brought up the rear, the tall man astride the bird still trying to work the mud out of his silver hair, not paying much attention to the approaching city.

Once Strife's near-suicidal charge had discovered the most effective point of weakness on the beast, Sephiroth had sent it packing, knocking it out with a powerful blow to the skull that would probably leave a mark for days upon it waking up again. After leaving the marshes the Wutaian cadet had questioned the general's action. He'd explained that the tacticians would study the report submitted by the squad, and then head out to see if the information recorded would be accurate. Sephiroth snorted softly when he remembered the look of disbelief on Yamir's face, did the cadet really believe that ShinRa would pass them on his word alone? This wasn't necessarily a pass or fail mission like most of the ones were, the objective hadn't been to eliminate this or infiltrate that. They needed to write a report on the monster's attack patterns, its strength readings, immunities, weak points, ect. Only after it had been verified would the board of examiners even glance at Sephiroth's report, which would need to be written on the performance of the team itself, both as individuals and their abilities to work with others.

From what he'd seen, Sephiroth was impressed, the three worked together quite well despite not knowing each other before today. Their individual strengths were quite commendable as well. The battle itself had been well fought, probing each aspect of the usual fighter's arsenal, magic and physical alike, and with no major injuries sustained to any part of the party. The only thing that bothered him about their actions would be Strife's charge to his defense; the recklessness could have cost more than just the minor bruises and muscle strain that the blonde had suffered because of the snake's impact on his sword.

Unfortunately, he couldn't say anything negative about it; the protection of higher-ranked officials was a good trait in a SOLDIER. After all, not every ShinRa executive could handle himself in battle like Sephiroth could. The action had also proven to be the break the cadets had needed to complete their mission, revealing the snake's most vulnerable point when it had nearly spitted itself on Strife's sword. The boy was lucky Sephiroth had been able to catch it and stop the forward motion before it pushed itself further, or Zack's student would be little more than a pile of meat and blood squashed to death under a couple tons of Midgar Zolom.

The general shook his head, remembering exactly how he'd gotten covered head to toe in mud. After a moment of fiddling with it, Sephiroth gave up on removing the long dried clumps of brown from his hair. He couldn't wait until they got back—a shower was sounding pretty good right now. It wasn't that he was vain or anything, but after spending at least an hour covered in swamp water, mud, and whatever else had been decomposing in the mentioned mud and water, the prospect of getting clean was rising rapidly to the top of his priority list. As if reading his thoughts, his chocobo sped up, easily catching up and bypassing the lagging yellow ones ahead of him.

Jenova's sudden movement was a catalyst, because even without prodding from the half-asleep riders, the other birds picked up the pace, trailing the black-feathered bird as she approached the gate. The guard on duty didn't need much cajoling to let the grumpy looking crew inside, and as soon as Sephiroth nearly growled at the man for staring at him he opened the smaller gate and let them in without the word.

Sephiroth heard the soft sound of chocobo talons coming up behind them, and urged Jenova faster. There was a rider approaching, and he didn't want to deal with any more people. He single-handedly herded the birds into the courtyard where he scared a dozing stable boy half to death when he ordered him to help the others with the birds.

Turning away from the quaking boy, the general slid off his own saddle. A quick stretch loosened a few muscles that had begun to stiffen up throughout the long ride before he grabbed Jenova's hanging reigns. A soft tug was all he needed to get the bird's attention, and it was soon plodding along behind him as he led the way into the stable proper. A quick glance behind him saw the stable-boy holding onto the reigns of the two rented birds while Bedros (where did he get the energy?) was trying to coax the other two cadets out of the saddles.

--

Seeing in the half-moon night was little problem for Vincent, his sight allowed him almost perfect vision as long as he had some light to go by. It was because of his sight that he was able to see the shivering of the gate-guard as he brought Sol up to Midgar's outer gate, even as the man tried to hide in the shadows of the gate house.

"A hard night?" He asked once he drew up close enough, drawing the man's attention to his red swathed form. The man sighed and put a hand to his forehead, "A couplea people beat ya inside Valentine. One of them didn't look happy at all. I thought he was going to kill me for a second."

The gunner chuckled, lightly swinging off his chocobo's back. He unhooked a large white bag from Sol's saddle and slung it over his shoulder, digging inside his pocket for the papers that gave him permission to go out on the plains and hunt monsters. The man at the gate waved his hand, having seen and checked the papers many times over the past month since the ex-Turk had begun to hunt outside the city, "Just hurry through Valentine. That girl of yours is probably waiting for you."

Vincent shrugged and nodded his thanks, not bothering to correct the gate-keeper's assumption that Aeris was his. It was a logical assumption, since she was often seen in his company. Every once in a while he even took her on the hunt with him—she was getting quite good with that staff of her's.

The gatekeeper closed the small, chocobo-sized door behind Sol, the locks falling into place with a loud set of clanging noises. The marksman winced slightly as the sound echoed in his ears; he hated how sensitive his hearing was. The only reason he even bothered heading out of the city to hunt was because the claws, fangs, pelts, ect from the monsters on the plains were worth far more than the ones roaming around in the city. Of course, he still did his civic duty and disposed of any he found within the city walls, but they weren't worth much.

As Vincent and Sol approached the chocobo stables, the man paused, narrowing his eyes as he noted activity in the part of the stables that were reserved for ShinRa rented birds. It must have been the party the gate-keeper mentioned, and Vincent made a mental note to avoid them, especially if they were as foul tempered as they'd been made out to be.

The ex-Turk led Sol around to the privatey-owned section of the stables. He found Earl tending to one of the birds about a stall or two away from Sol's spot. The man noticed Vincent soon enough, "'Eya Valentine. Was the huntin' good tonigh'?"

Vincent nodded an affirmative, shifting the white bag on his shoulder, "Better than usual." He dropped the bag in front of Sol's stall with a thump, raising his gloved hand to pet his bird's beak. She nipped lightly at a lock of his hair, returning the gesture before she ambled by, heading into the opened door and directly for the nest of hay and yellow feathers that took up almost the entire back of the space. The Stable-owner chuckled, "Wore her out, huh?"

Vincent shrugged, retrieving his burden and shouldering it once more. He just had one more stop to make before he headed back to the Gainsborough home. The local weapon-smith was always looking for more monster parts, especially the claws and teeth, and he wanted to try and make it over there before the shop closed for the night. He gave a parting wave to Earl, who always made a point to be friendly to him whenever they met so he tried to do the same, before heading on his way.

--

Sephiroth made his way through the stables, heading toward where he'd been told the stable-master was currently looking after one of the newer chocobos. Apparently it wasn't taking well to stable-life, or so one of the workers told him when he's inquired about the owner's whereabouts. He really didn't care about the chocobo, but he needed to inform the owner that they were returning the two rented birds.

Sure enough, after nearly traversing the whole compound, he found the man, speaking with another customer. It was one the general didn't know, probably someone from the private sector who kept birds stabled here. Luckily, the conversation—as one-sided as it seemed to be—was over and soon the red-cloaked man was retreating down the hall. Sephiroth strode forward then, the sound of his boots drawing the quick-hearing of the stable master.

"The test finished, sir?"

"Yes. I just came to inform you that we've returned the chocobos. Your stable-boy has them."

"Good, good. You and Strife took care of yer own?"

A nod.

"Alrigh'. I'll send the bill tomorra' as soon as I check them myself."

They exchanged a few more words, nothing to important, just the owner wringing out some information on the condition of his birds. The man was obsessive when it came to his personal flock—the ones that were rented out—but the general's short report seemed to satisfy him enough to let Sephiroth head out on his way.

Unfortunately, he still had to escort the cadets back, at least until they were within the compound. He half-wished he could just leave them here and head back himself, but he knew the guards on duty would not let them back in the gates unless they had orders (which they didn't, Sephiroth had them) or a pass signed by a person of significant authority (once again, they didn't have) so he was stuck herding the boys back up through the lift, and down the relatively empty back-streets of Upper Midgar.

It was slightly longer this way, but the main streets were crowded since it wasn't quite late enough for the activity to settle down. Most places were still open for at least another hour, and Sephiroth didn't feel like hanging around somewhere until the street was significantly empty to allow them to pass in peace.

They were all silent as the SOLDIER compound came into view, three out of the four too tired to waste the brain-power on talking, and the forth wasn't the most talkative even when someone was trying to talk to him. Sephiroth got them through the gates with little fanfare, handing the guard the exam orders and herding the three boys through the gates. Once the door shut behind him, the silver-haired man turned, "You three are to return to your usual dorms. Not all your squad mates may be back yet—the exam was slotted two days for travel time. If you pass, you'll receive a notice from your CO in about a week's time. If you fail…well…your CO will tell you what to do."

With those final words the General set off on his own, headed for the First Class barracks. He wondered if Zack was back, but decided against dropping in to see his subordinate. If the black-haired SOLDIER was here, and he wanted to know the results, he could find his way to Sephiroth's quarters for a change. Wasn't that how it was supposed to be? The subordinate reporting to the superior?

Sephiroth chuckled to himself.

After a few minutes of walking, he came to hear soft foot-falls behind him. He frowned, listening to the way the boots sounded against the ground, before recognizing them. Really, Strife had a distinctive gait. It was quieter than most, and watching the boy move reminded the general vaguely of the older generation of Turks. Sephiroth remembered thinking that maybe Strife's father had been a Turk and had taught him, but a quick check of the records scrapped that idea. "What do you want Strife?"

The foot-steps stopped, as did Sephiroth. The silver-haired man waited, half-turning to lock eyes with the cadet. As he thought, his shadow had been Strife. The boy looked half-dead on his feet, which led Sephiroth to wonder _why_ the cadet chose to follow him instead of going straight to bed. The faint-mako bright blue eyes looked away for a moment, before the boy lifted his head, a determined edge appearing in his tired stance, "Sir, something has been bothering me."

The general waited for the boy to continue, and after Strife realized that Sephiroth was willing to listen he did, "Today…you've only used your left hand. You never use your left hand."

Sephiroth let a half-smile cross his face. So he had noticed? He wasn't surprised. Strife's squad saw more of the general than most, so it gave the observant boy a bit more of a chance to get his habits down. But still, he didn't understand why the boy had pointed it out. What did it matter if he avoided using his main hand?

"Don't think too hard on it, Cadet." Sephiroth ended up responding to the boy's statement. There wasn't any way he was going to admit that he probably wouldn't be able to use his right hand for anything combat related for at least another day or so. If he hadn't been assigned to the exams he wouldn't have needed to. At least he could use his left hand equally well—he'd caught the Midgar Zolom with his 'weaker' side, right?

Which reminded him… "Strife." He called as the boy ducked his head at the evasive response, turning to leave. When the boy halted, Sephiroth continued, deciding to inform the boy of his thoughts concerning his actions during the battle, "You were too reckless today. Only idiots throw themselves in front of a three-ton snake."

A faint grin flickered onto the cadet's tired face, "Then I'm an idiot, sir. You saved me once, at least let me dream that I can return the favor one day."

He sounded so much like Zack when he said that. "Go to bed, cadet."

"Yes sir."

A/N: Another one I got myself some nice FFVII music remixes things that have done wonders for my muse. I've also been rereading some of the other fics out there, so inspiration abounds at the moment. A lot of it has been focused more in Part III, and I've written out some fun scenes where I'm actually in Cloud's head more than anyone else's. I kinda have to use Cloudie's POV…since Sephi is kinda…er…nevermind. If I continue that thought I'll probably spoil something.

The next one is the last chapter for this part. After that…time skip about another year or so. That'd make Cloudie about 16, Zack…uh…probably 20 ish, Sephy…I have no idea. Same with Vincent. I lost track of their ages quite a while ago. Cloud's is the only one I know for sure, and that's cause his age was given as 21 in the game, so I just count backward.

The last bit of this chapter was a bit difficult to write. I'm not sure why…I guess I wanted to get the little conversation with Cloud and Sephy, but it didn't want to come out. I'm not all too pleased by how it turned out, but meeeh. I'm done with it.

This chapter was finished on June 24th, and marks the first chapter that I had to pull completely from my head at once, without any existing framework. Soo…is it any good? All the others had been written/mostly written and had gone through a couple revisions before I was satisfied. This one is raw, so I'm a bit worried about the quality. Then again, I'm always worried about the quality…

Sometimes I wish I could be someone else and read this…being the one who wrote it is just…It's not the same.

Anyways, thanks for all the reviews guys! 15 at my last check, and over 300 hits for the last chapter! It makes me feel loved—I'm glad you guys seem to like this story. Frankly, you guys are the reason I keep coming back and updating it. It may take me a while some times, I have other stories, and for some reason I can only work on one at a time, but I will get this finished.

Read on for the last chapter of Part II!

P.S. Don't ask why I sudden switched to Roman Numerals...I just did z-z I'll go back and edit the others some time...


	13. Part II Ch VIII: Outrunning Fate

-

Part II Chapter VIII

-

It was so disconcerting. He'd seen this day, seen it so many times while he slept that he knew the proceedings by heart, and yet, to experience it…The thing that set Cloud's head spinning the most was that he was so used to being in the crowd with the rest of the failed examinees. This time, this time he was up on stage, in line with the other ten or so cadets who'd actually made it beyond the minimal passing score. This time, he was with the group that _excelled_.

All that work. Everything that he'd done up until this point was all for this moment. It was a stepping stone, getting into SOLDIER would be the event that allowed him to even dream of accomplishing his primary mission. There were times when he hadn't been sure he would make it, but he never allowed it to pull him down. He'd taken those times and used them to push himself, even going so far as to work through weekends when the rest of his squad hit the Slums for 'entertainment'. He had the knowledge, he had the skill, what he'd lacked was the power and the stamina to do anything.

But all that endurance training paid off, and here he was. He, Cloud Strife, a little no-body from Nibelheim, was standing in front of that year's class of cadets, in front of all the SOLDIERs currently stationed in the compound, about to be scouted for SOLDIER Third Class.

It was very hard to keep a beaming smile from crossing his face, to keep it uneasy and slightly nervous like the rest of them. He recognized almost half of his fellows, Kyros was up here, along with Nayan and Damon, and so was Gwydion, way at the other end of the line. They'd all been called up, with no mention of what for. Of course it was obvious to Cloud, he'd seen the scene so many times, but he wasn't supposed to know, not until the General stepped up in front of them and introduced them as the new additions to the SOLDIER units.

It wasn't a lavish ceremony; in fact, it was going to be quite short and plain. But it was the goal of every disappointed face that Cloud could see in the crowd. It had been his goal for so long, even before the accident…

Suddenly, he snapped to attention, hand rising in the customary salute as The General's tall, leather-clad form crossed the small platform. He looked…perfect. Not a single hair out of place, every movement filled with military poise. It was so different from the Sephiroth his squad trained with every other week, that Sephiroth was demanding, but only in his role as a teacher. He was much looser, almost patient at times. It was such a difference from the General everyone else saw, this tall, invincible, immovable figure.

And, as much as Cloud loathed to think of it, the _other_ Sephiroth he'd come to know was a completely different side. The blonde only hoped, if all went well, that he'd never have to meet that part of the General.

A deadly hush fell over the audience, even the angry murmurs from the unsatisfied cadets withered away in Sephiroth's presence. The General didn't have a microphone; he didn't need one when a pin could have been heard from across the room.

"SOLDIERs, welcome your new members." The statement was short, clipped, and to the point. A quick glance to his immediate side saw the realization dawning on his companions' faces. Expressions of shock, or joy, even pride were beginning to show on the features of those who were less guarded. Cloud finally let his own satisfaction shine through, not really paying attention as Sephiroth began calling the names one by one, remarking on the qualities of the graduates, and what had decided the pass/fail for them.

His roving eyes quickly found Zack; the SOLDIER First was near the front of the crowd, along with all the rest of that year's instructors. He could see the pride on his squad leader's face, proud that all three of his kids who had participated in the exam had passed. Cloud's joy faded a little as he looked on his teacher, the man who he'd known so well through his dreams. Sometimes, all the time, Cloud longed for the closeness they'd developed in the other time, the one he saw every night. But that Zack had been drawn by the dejected ShinRa regular, and had made it his mission to help out the poor kid. Out of that had developed the friendship he missed, but Cloud didn't want it to be like that this time. Maybe, just maybe, this time he could start up a true friendship. Not one out of pity, nor that of a mentor and his student. Cloud wanted to be on equal footing with Zack, to be next to him, and not in his shadow. He wasn't there yet, but he was a hell of a lot closer as of today.

The newly-promoted SOLDIER (although it would just be a title until the mako treatments started, an act that wasn't being looked forward too at all) drew his thoughts away from his teacher, realizing with a start that he'd missed his own induction, and the General was now giving the closing remarks. Ah well, it wasn't too important, he'd just been curious as to what the other Cloud had lacked.

Heh, the _other_ Cloud…It was getting so difficult, so difficult to separate the two life-times. The dreams kept returning every night, and every night he was the _other_ Cloud, he experienced first hand the horrors, the adventure, everything. It was only once he woke up that he remembered that things were different, that he was only fourteen, soon to be fifteen, and not twenty-one, or whatever age he'd been in the dream. Unfortunately they did not seem to run in any sort of timeline, they were completely random, and Cloud had even gone so far as to start a journal of them, in which he tried to piece together the events of the other Cloud's life.

What he'd learned was not very pleasant for the former-cadet, and only served to deepen his resolve to erase that timeline. He knew exactly what to do, and it all boiled down one night, one mission, and one man.

His eyes flicked casually to the General's retreating form, the cadets had just been told to join the rest of the audience on the ground level so as to clear the stage for an address by Heidegger, this one directed at both the new SOLDIER members and those who managed to get into the ShinRa Regular Division. Cloud didn't care much for it, following his peers as they hopped off the stage and melted into the crowd. He saw Zack waving at him, motioning for Cloud to join him near the front, but the newly promoted teenager continued his way toward the back, entertaining the idea of either sneaking out early (he could care less about whatever Heidegger had to say, he'd heard it before) or being one of the first to leave once they'd been dismissed, which seemed more likely since he wouldn't be able to escape cleanly with the way a few eyes followed him.

There were disadvantages to being part of the minority, Cloud reflected to himself, resigning himself to finding an empty wall to lean against and wait for the formal dismissal order. He'd just begun to drift off, into fantasies about what SOLDIER would be like when a soft voice whispered into his ear, and a leather gloved hand touched his shoulder.

"Good job Cloud."

The boy nearly jumped to attention, was he crazy? It would be suicide for Vincent to try and sneak into the compound, especially with the heightened security due to Heidegger's presence. "Are you crazy?" He quietly hissed back, voicing the thought aloud.

"No." came the chuckled response, "Just proud."

The hand vanished as if it were never there, and Cloud knew that even if he'd turned to look he would see no sign of the marksman. Cloud wanted to be furious that Vincent would put himself in danger like that, even for something as…inconsequential as the results for the ShinRa Military Exams.

But he found, as Hiedegger's speech drew to a close, a faint warmth building up inside him at the unexpected praise. It built up inside him until he had to let it bubble over onto his face. Vincent was _proud!_ Of _him!_ He'd risked a lot coming here, but he'd done it. How, Cloud figured he'd never know. But as long as the ex-Turk managed to get back out all right then Cloud would forgive him the indiscretion.

Zack finally caught up with Cloud after the ceremony, after the entire squad had returned to the dormitory for one last time before they were moved to their new homes. The new SOLDIERS to the Second/Third barracks, the new Regulars to wherever they would be stationed—likely Junon if what he'd overheard was accurate. Grant, the lone Turk-candidate was already gone; his stuff cleaned out and probably relocated to wherever the Turks were trained.

"You look unnecessarily happy, Cloudie" Zack teased, plopping down on the couch next to the blonde, "I take it something happened between getting off the stage and now?"

Cloud just smiled a little, looking up into the mako-bright eyes of his teacher, "Secret."

"No. You have too many secrets already." Zack laughed, ruffling the former cadet's spiked blonde hair, "You aren't allowed to have any more."

He just laughed, laughed like he hadn't done in a long, long time as Zack continued to try and wheedle the answer from the stubborn teenager. Cloud refused of course, no matter the threats, bribes, or pleading that the SOLDIER sent his way. That one little moment was his and his alone.

At length, Zack gave up; tossing an arm across Cloud's shoulder in an action that would have reminded him uncomfortably of the _other_ Zack. It would have, except that other future was just a distant thought in the back of his mind. At the moment, all that really mattered to the youth was right here and now. It was about his accomplishments, his teacher, and his friends.

"You did good kid." Zack's voice was strange, somewhere between happy and sad, with a healthy dose of pride mixed in. Blue eyes rose to look up at the black-haired man curiously. "Everyone did so well…"

Zack's face was turned away, but Cloud could have sworn he saw a lone tear stain running down the SOLDIER's cheek.

--

They all did so well…

They didn't need him any more.

His kids…His kids had grown up.

A/N:

Well, that's the end of Part II. Short, but I rather like it. To make up for the shortness I posted both 7 and 8 together—Aint I nice?

One thing though, to the people who want to review, what do you like best about this story? I've gone back and read it through myself, but it just…well; my author-ness isn't letting me see what it is that keep you guys coming back.

P.S. I was surprised at how many people have reread it e-e

Anyway, I'll see ya'll in another while. I'm gonna be working a bit more on Part III while I'm here, but I don't know if I'll get any more posted. The beginning chapter-ish is already written in my notebook, which is at home unfortunately. Also, when I get home I'm gonna have to focus a bit on the coming school year. Orientation is in July, and…well…University… (Yes, I did manage to survive my senior year. Yay for being a high-school graduate…)

But yeah, I still got quite a bit of inspiration for this story. The next part should be somewhat exciting, since it includes the confrontation that the whole story is about. Just how is Cloud gonna stop Nibelheim from happening? Of course, Cloud's burning of the mansion is gonna change Hojo's methods a bit, but that scientist isn't gonna let his Reunion Theory go just cause of a minor set-back.

And guess what! I finally figured out why Cloudie gets his dreams! Yeah, yeah, laugh at me. I'm around 50k words in and I hadn't figured it out until just now :p

I'm not gonna tell you guys yet. Cloudie comes clean to somebody in the next part (can you guess who? I doubt it :D) I might make a prequel about it…eventually…

Oh yeah, I remember there was a bit of confusion over Cloudie's mako eyes. Lucia thought it was from the dream (although she never could figure out why), Sephy/Vinnie/Zack think its just natural mako. Well, guess what? It's neither! None of them know the real reason, so they just used the explanation that made more sense to them. When Zack asked if it was from natural mako Cloud just kinda went "Sure, let's go with that" and that kinda stuck for the ShinRa gang.

End of Part II!

TBC


	14. Part III Ch I: Dreams

Part III Chapter I - The Calm

To most, the day was nothing more than a luke-warm day—nothing special. However, for at least one person in the entire ShinRa Company the sight of the increasing date was the subject of much pacings and mutterings. Sixty-eight floors above the ground level, a small, hunch-backed man slowly, and methodically paced the length of his lab, coal black eyes—hidden behind thick, reflecting lenses—flicking incessantly to the readouts on the screen before him. The vital signs displayed on the screen were somewhat worrying, even as the patient was half-way around The Planet. Jenova's strength was building; she was readying to pull her flesh and blood to her. It would be a matter of weeks now—a month at most, Hojo figured—before she released the call and he would have a chance to confirm his most interesting theory.

That of Jenova's Reunion.

However, there was a slight problem, one that Hojo had been working on off and on for the past five years since his original plan had become unusable. The books beneath the ShinRa Mansion—all those years of scientific research!—had fallen prey to a strange fire some years ago, and with the books gone, Hojo's well laid plans were somewhat in jeopardy. Luckily for the scientist, the Professor had plenty of time to construct contingency plans. The main issue wasn't the information—he had most of it in his computer files anyway. He just wasn't sure if the strength of Jenova's telepathic call would be able to reach Sephiroth if he didn't have his barriers opened by the information contained in those covers. Hojo'd considered recopying the texts and replacing them, but the survey team had deemed the mansion completely obliterated, and he couldn't find any other place in that tiny village—more of a settlement really—to stash them where he knew Sephiroth would find them.

The reactor was the only one he could think of, but the professor knew that finding newly printed books in the corner of some old reactor, _obviously_ containing sensitive information, would scream a set-up and lead Sephiroth to be less-inclined to trust the information. Hojo had known the man since his birth—he was not an idiot.

And while he was at it, he never did find out why the mansion had been burned down. Or destroyed, which was the course of action that seemed more likely. The villagers hadn't been very forthcoming with the facts when the investigation team had been sent to look into the matter. It'd been a stormy night they said—and the common consensus was lightning. Fire wouldn't be able to obliterate the lower level as well and when pressed a few of the weaker willed ones had claimed that a dragon destroyed the remains. Of course Hojo didn't believe that for a moment. A DRAGON? Please, they were obviously covering for someone. Someone they either cared an awful lot for to lie to ShinRa, or they were utterly afraid of them. Either way, that road was a dead end, since razing the village to the ground for their insolence would bring the company bad press.

He was on a strict time schedule. Jenova's life-force had been slowly, but steadily failing ever since he'd started observing the ancient life-form, and it would only be a matter of time before she was forced to shift hosts. The only compatible body would be that of General Sephiroth, and Hojo dearly wanted to see the union of Jenova's power and knowledge and Sephiroth's genetically enhanced strength. However, he knew that she had only enough to energy to subvert the powerful Sephiroth once. If it failed, and she did not manage to secure herself a new host (ie Sephiroth) she would be critically weakened, and would require intense medical observation and treatment before she could try again. Hojo didn't want to have to wait another five years to see his Reunion theory in action, so he could not afford to miss this chance. He _needed_ Sephiroth to be there, in that reactor, in one month, and with his barriers considerably weakened.

Need. That was it!

Hojo cackled to himself, congratulating himself on yet another brilliant idea. It'd only take him a couple hours to create the desired drug, and he could always mix it with some others in order to get the desired outcome… It was a good thing tonight was Sephiroth's regular check-up. He had plenty of time.

And for insurance…he had one more idea. A little note to Heidegger and it would be done.

--

Gun. Check.

Extra ammo. Check.

Supplies. Check.

Vincent ran over the list in his mind, continuing to inspect every piece of materia as he got ready for the outing. He wasn't necessarily going out hunting this time, but it never hurt to be prepared. Random encounters could fell even the sharpest of shooters if he didn't have any ammo. Satisfied, Vincent returned his gun to its holster, the bangle to his arm, and set the small bag onto the bed beside him, so he wouldn't forget it when he got up to leave.

Recently, he'd been finding it more and more difficult to stay in the city. He couldn't quite understand why, usually his issues with the air quality and the state of…non-cleanliness went away after a few months. Here it was, nearly two years after he'd arrived in Midgar, and it only seemed to be getting worse, not better. The air made his nose itch, his eyes burn, and dried his throat at least twice a week now, probably because the reactors spewed off more mako-contaminated waste as time went on, the reason for which was most likely because ShinRa didn't care enough to repair the (in his humble opinion) failing filters in the exhaust systems. They'd been originally set up to protect the average citizen's health, but why should the Company care anyway? There was enough ventilation (the open sky) above the plate to keep the executives and anyone with money happy, and as long as the Reactors still functioned ShinRa was still making money.

The pollution wasn't that quite noticeable yet to normal people, Vincent had received curious looks from Elmyra whenever he chanced to mention it. Aeris was much the same, so neither truly understood the constant need to be out of the filth, and the relish with which he enjoyed his now weekly out-of-Midgar trips. Due to his history with a certain mad scientist, the ex-Turk had a lower tolerance for the mako. It wasn't so much physical—he could handle mako-poisoning for far above the level an average human would die from—but psychological. He absolutely hated the smell. He hated the feel. He just…didn't like it. If it was this bad now, he couldn't quite imagine what it would be like in five years. Hopefully he'd manage to get out of Midgar before then.

Vincent pulled on his boots, ignoring the irritation in his throat as he thought of the open sky of the surrounding plains. He needed to get out, needed some fresh air. The reactor's exhaust was still present in the area directly surrounding Midgar, but if he went far enough away he could find somewhat clean air again.

Something in the back of his mind told him that he was being selfish, putting his own wants ahead of his job, which was protecting Aeris and keeping an eye on Cloud. However, he shot that argument down due to the fact that he was actually taking Aeris on the trip with him (she'd been utterly delighted when he broached the idea, and Elmyra had agreed that it would be good for Aeris to get out more, as long as they were both back by dark and were careful) and that Cloud was likely to be on sick leave for the next couple days. His young ward had called Vincent's PHS a few hours earlier, informing him that he'd finally gotten finished with his mako-treatments, and that he would be sleeping as soon as he hung up the phone and that he _would not_ appreciate any interruptions. His lips quirked into a thin smile as he remembered the tone of voice in which the message had been delivered—exhausted, but with an unmistakable threat should his sleep be disturbed for anything less than someone dying.

Annoying, duty obsessed voice taken care of, Vincent rose to his feet, absently adjusting the red-cloak wrapped around his shoulders—his preferred outfit for out-of-city expeditions. He liked the concealment it gave his clawed arm, but it was far too memorable for daily use. People he interacted with regularly often gave his over-long and oddly shaped sweater sleeve an extended cursory glance, and Zack had even asked about it quite a number of times, but so far, no one but Cloud, Aeris, and Elmyra knew about his claw. The way he kept it hidden was uncomfortable, and restricting (due to the tightness of the sleeve, and he was forced to use his right hand all the time), but the golden gauntlet would be far more memorable than even his bright red cape.

Vincent picked up the white bag containing his supplies and slung it over his right shoulder, reviewing his checklist one last time before he exited the room he'd been given on the second floor of the Gainsborough house in return for his body-guard services. He gave the room opposite his a thoughtful look, but judging by the lack of noise coming from it the occupant was not in. She was probably out in the paddock, prepping SpitFyre for her first journey outside the city walls.

True to his threat all those months ago, Zack had indeed named the baby black chicabo once it'd hatched. The SOLDIER had even managed to drag Cloud down for the hatching, and had completely ignored any advice anyone gave him for the name. As soon as the hatchling had tumbled out of the hard shell he'd declared her name to be SpitFyre, and when asked to explain his reasoning he simply stated that it matched her personality.

Sure enough, Fyre (for short) was a feisty little bird, and one that had an unhealthy attachment to Zack. Aeris was her second favorite person, but whenever Zack was around the bird would get all possessive and demand all of his attention. Cloud had often joked that it was because his hair, which vaguely resembled black chocobo feathers (although not as much as Cloud's hairstyle, as Zack was quick to retort, excluding the black part)

Those two…Vincent had never before seen two people who were more unsure about where they stood with each other. Sometimes they would dance around each other, others they were mere acquaintances (friend of a friend type thing), student and teacher, closer than brothers…the relationship changed so many times, so often, and completely without a warning. He knew that Zack was trying his hardest to stabilize the classification around the 'friend' area, but Cloud couldn't seem to decide.

Deciding to quit thinking about his ward and his friend's tangled relations, Vincent found that he'd automatically headed for the gardens, stopping in the entry to the part of maze that housed the chocobo stall that he, Aeris, and Zack had built right before the SMEs. They'd had to add a fence after Fyre had hatched, the little thing loved to wander, but as the chicabo grew it seemed to realize just where home was and was content to remain there.

The gate to the fence was open, and within the clear space that served as SpitFyre's home he could see his other charge fitting a second-hand saddle to the black-feathered back. Vincent noted absently that Fyre seemed a little nervous, warking quietly when Aeris tightened the leather strap holding it in place. The flower-girl whispered soft reassurances, one hand petting the stone-grey beak in an attempt to keep the bird calm. Aeris had it under control, she just had a calming air to her, and even the chocobo noticed it. SpitFyre had only recently reached ridable-size, and they hadn't tried to take her out yet, so it was understandable for her to be nervous.

"You ready?" His voice drew the girl's attention, leaf-green eyes sparkling as she glanced his way. "Almost!" She answered, continuing her one-handed petting as she grabbed the bridle from where it was hanging on the stall door. Fyre started in alarm when Aeris tried to slip the leather bridle over her beak, shifting backwards a few steps and ruffling her feathers nervously.

"It's not going to hurt you, you silly thing." Aeris cooed to the bird, shifting her hand to rub the chocobo's eye-ridges. The motion seemed to fulfill its purpose, the wide, brown eyes closing slightly as Fyre leaned into the flower-girl's touch. With a quick motion, the leather straps wound around the bird's beak, and by the time Fyre would react Aeris was already tightening the bridle so it lay snuggly around the chocobo's head, the reigns hanging limply near the black feathered neck.

"Wark!" The bird responded indignantly, scooting away from the girl as if she'd been betrayed. Aeris laughed, putting a hand on her hip and brought the other one to wag her finger at the chocobo, "See? It's not so bad."

As amusing as the scene was, Vincent wasn't in the mood to watch the girl and the bird dance around the issue. Since SpitFyre was readied (except for her whole nervous attitude) he wanted to get moving. "Let's get going."

Aeris nodded, snatching up the dangling reigns and after a bit of prodding had the bird moving slowly after the ex-Turk. After Fyre seemed to realize that they were actually leaving the small enclosed garden that had been her entire world, she was far more agreeable. The universal curiosity kept the black-feathered head swaying left and right, and every now and then (to Aeris's annoyance) she would see something interesting and try to wander off.

Due to the fact that it was against the law to keep a chocobo in the city, they had a little trouble moving from Aeris' house in Sector Six to the stables where Vincent went to pick up Sol. They had to travel the back-streets, avoiding most people except those who cared little for ShinRa's laws. A flash of Vincent's gun, his mako-bright red eyes, and the sight of Aeris' staff strapped to her back kept the trouble at bay—Vincent was well known in the area for his aim, and there weren't many petty thugs who would bother him. He'd had to make plenty of them into examples since he'd arrived, but eventually they got the point and stopped harassing him.

Aeris waited outside the stables while Vincent talked to the manager and readied his chocobo for the ride. Sol was delighted to see him, as always, and nipped affectionately at a lock of his hair. Again. He didn't really understand the bird's fixation on his hair, but had gotten used to it over the years. He tolerated it as Sol's method of greeting. It seemed to be different with every chocobo—Zero shifted in place, warking a greeting whenever he saw Cloud, and SpitFyre would bump Zack and Aeris with her head whenever they came to see her.

Vincent chuckled a little as he settled into Sol's saddle, taking up the reigns and leading the antsy chocobo out into the street. Aeris was waiting outside on Fyre—who was looking rather put-out about having the girl on her back and out of her immediate sight, and was constantly craning her neck to look back at her—and it was only a couple strides before he pulled Sol even with them. The yellow chocobo regarded the black curiously, and Fyre seemed fascinated to see another chocobo, so Vincent turned his attention to Aeris. "Kalm, or the ocean?"

He hadn't had a destination in mind, he just wanted to get out of the city, so he figured he might as well let Aeris choose. She had a difficulty choosing, but eventually settled on one. "How about the ocean? I don't remember seeing it before."

The ex-turk nodded, nudging Sol's sides with his heels and directing her toward the gate. Aeris coaxed Fyre in line behind them.

To the ocean, then.

--

Humming. The sound filled the room, bouncing off the off-white walls of the empty office. Its source was located, not at the desk, but on the floor, off to one side of the room. With his back to the door, sitting cross-legged on the carpeted floor, one Zachary Fair filled up the silence as he methodically filed paper after paper. The mindless work was boring, he had to admit, but it was one of the few times that he'd actually been able to stop and think recently. The office had been hectic as of late, and while Zack basked in the activity, no, thrived in it, even he enjoyed some time to just unwind and relax.

In the past few weeks Sephiroth's office had been the source of much planning, all leading up to the source of all the commotion. The SOLDIER field exams had been last week, where all the lower ranked SOLDIERs were assessed and their abilities reevaluated. Those with a high enough score were promoted, and those who didn't were assigned extra training or given to different squads. Zack, at the moment, was actually cleaning up the results of those exams. The sheets proclaiming the advancing SOLDIERs were finally sent back from Hojo, who'd just completed the Mako treatments that were mandatory with a class change.

The SOLDIER First paused, thinking back with a shudder at his experience with those things. The amount and length of the treatment increased by five times from 3rd to 2nd class, and from 2nd to 1st it was inhumane. At least ten times the last dosage. It was enough concentrated mako to kill a normal human being, and the only reason First Classes were able to survive was because their bodies had adapted to large quantities. Also, the shots were given over a longer period of time in small dosages. But that didn't help the pain too much, just prolonged it. It was three weeks of unending pain; both the prick of the injection needle and the burn of the mako as it ran through his system…Zack hated even thinking about it.

This was the reason why he quickly searched for something to distract him. He soon found it, when he recognized the name on the file he had been holding when he'd taken the painful trip down memory lane.

That was right, Cloud had taken the test. He'd done pretty well on the exam, not quite passing it as easily as he had the first test, but he'd gotten through it. Zack opened the folder quickly, flicking through the reports written by both the examiners and Hojo's assistants that had monitored the mako treatments. "Hm? Unusually responsive?"

The words were scrawled on the last sheet of paper, detailing the comments from the science staff. Apparently the examinees had been released earlier this day, and had the rest of the day off to become accustomed to the increased concentration of mako in their systems. Zack made a mental note to drop by his former student's dorm-room, check in and make sure he was handling the mako alright, 'Unusually responsive' didn't sound like it boded well for Cloud.

"You do realize that you are snooping, right?"

Like a child who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Zack closed the file quickly, sheepish mako-bright eyes rising slowly to meet with amused green ones. Sephiroth shook his head at the action, and at the way the SOLDIER discretely slipped the incriminating file into its place. Zack quickly turned his attention to the rest of the pile, pointedly ignoring his superior as Sephiroth settled into the large, leather chair behind the desk.

"Since you're so interested in Strife, I have an errand for you." Zack looked up, just in time to catch a manila folder that Sephiroth had lobbed across the room. The SOLDIER glanced at it, before frowning. It just wasn't right. A mission folder? To a boy who had spent the last couple days undergoing an extremely painful process that often left the body adjusting for at least a few days afterward? It wasn't just his protectiveness telling him that this wasn't right, nor was it just concern for his friend. It was just pure, common sense. "He just got out of the treatments. Can't you give the mission to someone else?"

Sephiroth shook his head, "This one isn't from me; it's from Heidegger. Apparently Strife's size makes him perfect for the mission."

Zack sighed, placing the folder on top of the filing cabinet so he wouldn't forget it later. Ever since Cloud had first made it into SOLDIER, he'd often been assigned many different missions based on his size alone. Zack had gone through something similar himself, back when he was lesser known. Undercover missions especially, who would suspect a wiry, black-haired teenager of being a SOLDIER anyway? Most people thought all SOLDIERs were like Sephiroth; since he was the only member of SOLDIER that was publicly seen. When on any type of mission, the rest of the SOLDIERs were required to wear those annoying, stuffy helmets. The official reasoning was for protection, but Zack knew that it was to heighten the intimidation factor. Recently the rule had been revised, and First Classes were allowed to go without the head-gear, but only when the mission was a non-combat type.

Everyone else…the helmets were mandatory as long as they were in uniform.

Anyway, his thought had strayed just a wee bit from the topic. Because of the anonymity afforded by the SOLDIER uniform, the small, unassuming ones were usually sent to do the under-cover work. The Turks handled most of the stuff requiring actual subterfuge, but reconnaissance…the scouting out of a soon-to-be battle field, now that was where the smaller built, and younger SOLDIERs were deployed. After all, who would expect a SOLDIER's strength from someone who looked like they wouldn't be able to handle a dog?

Unfortunately Cloud fell into that category pretty easily.

Eventually the seemingly endless pile of papers dwindled away to nothing, and Zack could no longer justify the putting-off of the delivery to Sephiroth's satisfaction. The silver-haired man nearly threw him out of the door when Zack began to bug him for more work—anything to delay giving Cloud the mission. He knew Cloud, knew his habits better that almost anyone (excluding his two best-buddies, Sephi and Vinnie) and he knew that the boy would, upon receiving the folder, ignore all common sense when it came to his body and get to work on mission prep right away. Zack wanted to give the blonde as much time as possible to sleep off the mako injections.

As such, it was almost night-fall before the black-haired SOLDIER moseyed up to the dorm that Cloud shared with two others, his knuckles rapping on the door and sending an echo into the hallway. An empty echo.

There was silence behind the wooden frame, and Zack vaguely entertained the idea that Cloud was asleep, and he could hold onto the envelope until morning. After all, it wasn't a good idea to just leave confidential mission reports lying around unattended, especially in a shared room. Nope. No sir-y Zack Fair was not one to risk a security leak—he'd just have to come back tomorrow.

The idea bounced around in his mind as Zack turned to leave, and he'd made it a step down the hallway before a sleep-clogged voice called him out, heavy with the tranquilizing effect of mako, "Zack? What are you doing here?"

Drat. He should have not knocked, and said he did. Then again, Seph would probably know that he hadn't knocked, and would get on his case in the morning. The silver haired man often had to get after Zack for making things easy for the three former members of his squad, and had even gone so far as to pull Zack's name off the instructor's list. Apparently he got too attached to them. Bah.

Once again feeling like a guilty child (that was twice in one day!) he turned around and violet eyes locked with half-lidded blue-green. Eyes were funny; they were really the only part of the body that ever shown any visible change based on mako-presence and concentration. Take Cloudie's eyes here; about a year ago he'd had the purest blue eyes ever seen, but the mako had stained them and shifted the color a little, allowing them to rest somewhere between blue and green. Zack's own eyes had changed, starting at a cobalt blue and finally ending up a violet after bazillion mako treatments later.

Absently he wondered what color eyes Seph had originally, although green was usually a color that was left alone. Green and black generally. Zack didn't know why—he wasn't a scientist!

"Hello? Cloud to Zachary. Do you copy?"

"Don't call me that." Was the automatic reaction, but the use of his full name dragged the spacey-SOLDIER back to solid ground. At Cloud's expectant look (although it lacked its usual intensity due to the half-dazed air around the SOLDIER) Zack sheepishly handed over the folder—with much reluctance on his part. If he could have gotten away without giving it to Cloud until tomorrow he would have. Unfortunately, Sephiroth seemed to have a knack for knowing when Zack shirked on his duties, and he didn't really want to have to deal with the General's…unique brand of punishment.

"…This was supposed to be here hours ago, Zack." Cloud reprimanded, apparently not appreciating the other man's actions even though they had been taken with the blonde in mind. As the time wound on Cloud was looking better—even the dark circles under his eyes (probably caused by the mako.) were fading, but Zack was still rather miffed that his thoughtful acts had been turned down.

"And how would you know that?"

"One, I know you." And here was interrupted by a large yawn, "and two, General Sephiroth called a little while ago to make sure you turned it in."

Damn. Oh well, at least Cloud got that much more sleep, judging by his mussed up appearance and inclination toward yawning. He said as much to his former student, which resulted in a sleepy laugh and a dismissing wave of his hand, "I'm fine Zack. It looks like simple monster elimination. They probably took into account my…condition."

Zack hadn't looked into the contents of the folder, but he was a bit surprised at the objective. What would monster elimination have to do with Cloud's size, anyway? Seph had said that Cloud was directly specified for the mission for that reason. As he said goodnight to the SOLDIER Zack headed back down the hall, keeping the musings to himself as he made his way back to his own quarters. Sephiroth would probably have left for his 'appointment' by now, so there was no point in going back to the office. The least he could do is get things ready for the General's visit that night.

Unfortunately, Sephiroth wouldn't show up that night.

Nor would he be in the office the next day.

--

A/N: First chappie of Part III. It's roughly a year (maybe a little more) after the end of the last chapter, and Cloud just tested and completed the 2nd Class promotion. The exams are held roughly every year, although most people don't take and pass them a year after being promoted. Zack did though, if you remember. He met Sephy as a newly promoted 3rd, went up to 2nd after a year, and then 1st was a year later. Course, Zack was training with Sephy at that time…

Anyway, hope you like the chapter. It's sort of a set-up chapter—this part will have a lot more stuff going on than the last one.

If there's anything confusing/unclear just let me know, okay? I'll do my best to clarify either in the next chapter or via review reply.

TBC


	15. Prt III Ch II: Life and Death

Part III Chapter II – Conversations of Life and Death

_-Evening-_

"This…this is what it's supposed to be." Aeris breathed, taking in the view she was offered by her position. The ocean was as beautiful as she could have ever imagined, especially during the time of day it was nearing now. They'd arrived some-time mid-afternoon, and now the sun was sinking slowly, casting both the sky and the distant waters on the horizon a natural mixture of reds, yellows, and oranges while the rest of the sky faded into darker blues and indigos. She had a perfect view of the near-complete rainbow, laying face-up in the clean white sands that served as a small intermediary between the land and water.

They'd had to travel some distance to find this beach-head, for miles and miles the coast was rocky cliffs. They got lower and softer the further away the two chocobos had traveled until they'd stumbled across this one point, far on the northern end of the Midgar continent. Or, maybe they hadn't stumbled, Vincent hadn't seemed like he didn't have a destination in mind. It was completely possible that he'd already known of this place and had decided to take her to it.

Speaking of the man, Aeris heard the soft sounds of sands being moved to her right and soon his quiet, but attention grabbing voice drifted above the soft lap of the sea's waves against the sand, "If we're to be back before dark, we need to get moving."

But she didn't want to go back yet. Not back to the dead place that had been her home as long as she cared to remember. While her garden offered her a sanctuary in the cold metal city, it was nothing compared to this. Nurturing the small bit of life that existed within the depths of Midgar held an immense satisfaction, but it was a pale replacement for the peace that surrounded her now.

She must have muttered her thoughts aloud, because there was another shift of the sands and Vincent spoke again, "Speak to your mother about that. It's warm enough, we could stay over-night and head back tomorrow."

The brown-haired girl pondered the thought for a moment. The trip hadn't been planned as an over-night venture, so they did not have any tents or equipment of the nature. But…was that so bad? Would she be able to spend the night here? In the warm sand, under the sky, relying on her companion to keep away the monster as she slept?

It didn't take much to find the answer. Of course.

She was sitting up a second later, reaching for the PHS she'd relieved from her pocket when she'd decided to lie down in her bed of sand. The number was dialed, and the idea was proposed. Elmyra wasn't too keen on at first, and she mentioned the lack of equipment and the monsters, but Aeris wouldn't listen. Eventually she wore her mother down and the woman ended with a quiet "You're old enough to decide now. Just be careful."

Once the conversation finished up, and declarations of love were exchanged, Aeris clicked off the phone and glanced up at her chaperone, communicating to him the decision via a warm smile. Vincent nodded, having heard the one sided conversation, "I'll secure the area."

Within seconds he was gone, not even so much as the sound of sediment moving could be heard when he wasn't trying to catch her attention. Aeris lay back down in her bed of sands again, nestling in and reshaping the small hollow that she'd disturbed when she'd sat up to take the phone call. There were sometimes when she suddenly realized that she didn't know much about Vincent, besides that he was Cloud's friend, and that he'd once been a Turk. This was one of those times, her eyes flickered in the direction the red-cloak had vanished, eyebrows furrowing in thought. He was secretive, but she had figured it was more to protect himself from the memories—it would make sense that a Turk's life would try to stay buried.

Aeris liked Turks. Her first encounter with the group was a young man named Tseng, who she'd later discovered was actually the leader of the organization. Considering her…status as the last living Ancient, she'd always wondered why the Wutaian never reported her whereabouts to the Research Department. But, regardless of his reasons, Tseng had always been nice to her over the past few years, and had protected her when he could in the short time before Vincent's arrival. Now that the sharpshooter had taken over the post, Aeris hadn't seen the other Turk around anywhere. It made her sad at times.

She sighed; it wasn't really a good idea to think of potentially depressing thoughts in such a nice place. Aeris returned her attention outward, noting happily that the sun wasn't much lower that it previously had been, meaning not much time had passed since Vincent had left. Occasionally she'd find herself spacing out like that, especially when in her garden, and recently Vincent had taken it upon himself to try and break the habit. She knew it could be potentially dangerous—she didn't have the experience to react if something attacked her in such a state—but she couldn't help it when she just felt _safe_.

"The sky…" The sound of her own voice surprised her at first, she hadn't meant to speak, but it just slipped out. She found that she liked it. Liked being able to hear the thoughts and allow her mind to expand on them.

"The wind…"

"The water…" Leaf-green eyes, almost a dark forest green in the dying light, closed slowly and soon she was only listening. She could hear it; hear the hum of the life around her. The wind whispered, the water lapped, somewhere up the beach in the small patch of forest bordering the sands she could hear the song of the night-life, just waking up as the sun sunk lower.

"It's just so…"

"Alive?" Apparently Vincent had returned, his slightly amused voice fitting almost perfectly over the symphony of sounds that the girl was listening to. But then, it shifting, bringing discord with the harmony around it, sounding disgusted. "Not like Midgar."

Even though he was echoing her earlier thought, she couldn't help the way her stomach squirmed at the fact. Midgar wasn't near as alive as it was here, but it wasn't…completely dead yet. When a soft, almost inaudible movement gave away the gunner's position, the flower-girl rolled on her side, eyes opening to stare up at her odd guardian.

"It's still alive, Vincent."

The man shrugged, and Aeris had to stifle a quiet laugh—the movement looked so funny from her position. When he didn't seem to respond, she decided to press forward, "Someday, even Midgar will be like this. Someday."

"In what future?" It wasn't a demand, but it wasn't merely polite interest, just a quiet question, as if he didn't expect an answer. It was nice, Aeris decided, to be the one to answer, instead of ask. But still, why did he always have to doubt?

"Our future, silly. It may be a year, or five, or a decade, but some day. The Planet will recover."

The sunset was fading now, giving way to the deep indigo of night. The stars slowly appeared, first as faint bright spots against the dark, and then evolving into merrily twinkling individual specks, growing brighter as the sun sank below the horizon. All of a sudden, watching the evolution from dusk to true darkness, Aeris was immensely pleased that they'd decided to stay. It was a real treat to watch the stars, here, where they weren't blocked by the ever-present dark-grey metal of the plate that was the perpetual sky above the slums, or, when one managed to find a gap in the plate, through the smog given off by the reactors.

Oh, she knew how much those things bothered her guardian. It didn't quite affect her to the extent Vincent felt, but she could feel it in her bones, the presence of the perverted Lifestream in the air. It was wrong—the origin of all life being forcibly removed from its shell, and turned into a poison. A deadly poison. It was a poison that, if given enough time, would cleanse the city of those who created it.

She hadn't been lying when she said it would be cleansed. One way or another. Although, if she were to truly be optimistic and listen to Cloud, there was a possibility that humans would learn their mistakes in time.

Hmm, Cloud. The girl watched the faint grey splotch of a late evening cloud float across the sky. She wondered if Vincent had any idea what his other protectee knew. Cloud never really told her directly what he saw, but she knew, from waaay back when she first met him. She'd been the one to help him figure them out, so long ago, when the little blonde-haired child had broken down in front of her, lost and confused when the images had revealed her existence to the small country boy before his mother had ever considered coming to Midgar to visit a friend. After that, he'd gone back home and everything had started. After writing to her, telling her about Vincent's discovery and the fact that, yes, there was a truth in those dreams they hadn't spoken of it again, but they'd kept in touch.

"Cloud can see that future." She smiled to herself at the double meaning in the statement, "I can. So why can't you?"

As usual, no answer was forthcoming. Aeris would have shaken her head, but the action would have invited far too many grains of sand into her braid—there were more than enough in there already. Her eyes drifted shut for the second time and the Ancient just listened to the voices on the wind.

Voices that spoke in anticipation. Something was going to happen. She'd always heard voices—it was part and parcel of being a Cetra—but these particular ones had been getting louder and louder, originating way back before she'd ever met Vincent, and shortly before meeting Cloud.

She could hear them, but they wouldn't tell her what they were waiting for.

They never did.

_-Next Day-_

The office was quiet. Too quiet. True, it was far earlier than Zack usually arrived at his place of work but…

Truth be told, Zack didn't get much sleep last night. He knew exactly why, worry being the main culprit. Ever since the first time he'd caught Sephiroth after one of his appointments, the General had never failed to show up. Sometimes he was early, others he stumbled in well after midnight, but never had he failed to show completely. Zack had been up all night, straining his ears for any sound at the door even as the clock ticked further into the morning. Eventually he'd fallen asleep around dawn, but had been awake in less than an hour, when he decided to head into the office on the off-chance that Sephiroth would be there.

Normally Zack would wander in around nine or ten, but everyone knew that the General arrived well before that. It was currently around the time when Sephiroth normally showed, but everyone he'd spoken to hadn't seen him. And so Zack was left alone in the office, sitting in Sephiroth's large, rather comfy leather chair, and trying—in vain—to justify the man's absence.

Perhaps he'd gone to his own quarters? (Unlikely, since Zack had stopped by and knocked before heading in to work) Or, Hojo had decided to keep him over night for observation? It hadn't happened before, but it was possible. Unfortunately, Zack didn't like that idea much. The only reason Hojo would keep him was as if he did something beyond the usual poking, prodding, and the numerous mako injections. The thought of his general, his friend, at the mercy of that madman did nothing to calm his nerves. Of course, it could just be speculation. Maybe Sephiroth would show up if he waited. Just a little longer.

And so time passed. Being the bundle of energy he was, Zack got bored pretty quickly. He'd unearthed some papers that needed to be filed and got to work, violet eyes glancing constantly at the door every ten minutes or so. The clock ticked by slowly.

There was still no sign of his general.

Zack's unease merely grew.

--

-_Mid-Afternoon-_

His footsteps echoed beneath him, his boots echoing eerily against the metal walkway. Cloud couldn't help the anxiety that had begun to claw at him, blue-green eyes shifting this way and that at the slightest sound, taking in the dimly-lit corridor. It was far too cramped for his liking in this maintenance passage, but he could see why he'd been assigned to this mission. Even Zack's modest height would be too much to maneuver comfortably within the confines of the tiny passage. Even _he _was a bit restricted (he favored a sword that was roughly his height, for crying out loud) but, as much as he hated to admit it, he was the smallest person currently in the SOLDIER program.

While he could understand the reason he was required on this mission, he could not understand how it had come about. A SOLDIER had been called in because this was a place that a rogue monster could really do some damage—the Mako Reactor. Honestly, he had no idea how a monster could get this far into ShinRa's precious money generator. Security was enough to take out most of the nuisances that usually lived around the structures, so either the night-shift had been slacking or this was one devious monster he had on his hands.

One of the nervous workers had pointed him down this tiny maintenance shaft, saying that he'd seen it head inside not too long before. Apparently it hadn't come out; since there was no other exit and the one he'd entered through had been barricaded before he arrived by the anxious staff. This path led to one of the containment chambers for the unprocessed mako, and Cloud could only wonder why the monster had come down this way. Following that train of thought, he really wished he had any kind of information about what he was facing. Apparently none of the workers had gotten a good look. None had been able to give him an accurate description—or even any speculation!

Finally, he could see some light at the end of the tunnel—and it wasn't the dim emergency lighting that illuminated the walls. It was a bright greenish white, probably thrown off by the huge vat of mako he knew to be at the other end of the corridor. Every sense alert, Cloud pushed forward, listening for any indication of the target he'd been ordered to exterminate. His senses were a little dull, after effects of the mako treatments, and his reactions a little slower, but it shouldn't be an issue.

He stepped out into the open room, gloved hand on the hilt of his large sword as he surveyed the area. As he'd guessed, the entire cylindrical room was one large vat of mako. The border of the room near the door was covered by a narrow section of metal scaffolding, and a long path stretched out over the churning liquid to the center pillar, where a control panel blinked innocently.

_Now, where is that monster…_

Even before the thought was finished, Cloud became aware of movement to his side. Claws scratching against the metal flooring tipped him off immediately, detaching the huge weapon from his back and whirling around with a broad horizontal sweep. There was a brief resistance as the sharpened blade met hardened flesh, but soon it gave, slicing clean through the monster that had been moving to decapitate him.

With a pathetic scream the two halves clanked to the ground, dissolving into a light mist right before his eyes. Cloud frowned, eyebrows knitting together as he studied the spot the monster had been. It hadn't been a very strong monster, nor particularly smart if its method of attack had been any indication, which begged the question: How the hell did it get in?

Unfortunately, Cloud wasn't given long to ponder the circumstances. He was barely aware of movement from behind him—the tunnels!—before a sharp poke in the back became the precursor for the shocking effect of a couple thousand volts of electricity. He didn't know quite how much, he thought absently as he dropped his weapon and slumped to the floor, body tingling, but it was well enough to momentarily paralyze a 2nd class SOLDIER.

Vision blurry, he attempted to shift so he could see what had attacked him, but all he caught were glossy black dress shoes, and what seemed to be a blue suit leg. His muscles refused to work properly so he couldn't lift his head to see any higher. There was a sigh from the person above him and one of the shoes pressed painfully into his side, pushing him firmly to the edge of the narrow scaffolding they were currently located on. "I'm sorry Cloud."

That voice. It sounded familiar.

"You'll just have to trust me."

The effects of the shock were wearing off quickly, too quickly for a shock meant to paralyze a SOLDIER, but not fast enough. Another nudge and he couldn't feel the metal any more, only empty space. The surface of the enormous vat of liquefied mako was approaching quite fast, and the rushing air whistled painfully as he fell closer to what would be certain death.

--

A/N: I had half this chapter done a while ago, but the bit with Zack didn't want to come out right. It's still kinda forced, but I felt I needed it.

Aaand…who saw that last bit coming? Honestly, tell me. I'm quite proud of that little plot twist. Anyone guess who it was that pushed him off? I've written him in the story before, but it was quite a few chapters back in Pt II

Also, for anyone who noticed, I added chapter titles! Look at the chapter list on the top-right and tell me what you think of them. If anyone has any suggestions let me know, I'll consider 'em.

Feedback is much love. A great big thank you to those who reviewed! My only hope is that this story continues to amuse you.


	16. Part III Ch III: Dive into Vision

Part III Chapter III - Dive into Vision

_-Morning-_

The first thing that managed to burst through the haze surrounding his mind was that one, he was falling, and two, he could move again. Not that the revelation helped much, he was moving too fast to try and grab onto anything. He was certain that trying to do so would likely end with his arm ripped off, which would leave him worse off than when he started.

A normal sixteen year old would have likely given up on life at this point, closing his eyes against the rapidly approaching horizon of iridescent green. Cloud wasn't a normal sixteen year old. He was a SOLDIER, in both mind and body now. The adolescent ended up sliding to the background, letting the hardened instincts of a warrior claw their way to the front. Instincts of the man he was, and would have been, in another time.

The first thing he did was asses his options. He could have tried to use his sword and the nearby wall to slow his momentum, but his beloved weapon was currently lying at the feet of his assailant. His second option was the materia fitted in his bangle, and he automatically reached out to the orbs, probing the magic. Heal, Cure and some others of his typical battle spells—there were none that would be particularly useful. He withdrew his energies, disregarding a possible magical solution just as unfamiliar warmth filled the air, tugging at his clothes and skin.

His eyes were watering from the combination of the rushing air and the mako-fumes, so he couldn't see the result of the spell, if one had indeed been cast; all he could see was the sea of green mere inches below him. His skin was burning now from the radiation, but that did nothing to match the anger that had started bubble inside. Did he make SOLDIER just to lose it all like this? Would Nibelheim still happen? He liked to think his destruction of the mansion would prevent it, but realistically, he knew Hojo had plenty of time to work around it. If he did nothing else, he needed to make sure that disastrous event did not come to pass. Or that he could stop it, if it came down to it.

Suddenly, breaking him out of the downward spiral his pre-death thoughts had taken, he was aware of was a very painful jerk around his middle. He kept going, even as the speed of descent slowed to nothing. It was almost too late when it finally halted, and he briefly broke the surface of the deadly poision from the momentum. Whatever the force was, it held, and Cloud grit his teeth against the freezing burn that spread across his face an upper torso, courtesy of his slight dunk into the iridescent liquid. Figuring the strange magic wouldn't last forever, he reached out to the supports barely an arm's length away, the cold metal beams adding to the forces keeping him suspended just above the brightly glowing mako. He was lucky he'd only been nudged over, a few more feet and he wouldn't have been able to reach it.

Cloud wasn't aware of what exactly had stopped his fall, but he really didn't have time to think about it now. With his head and face nearly covered in mako, his grip on the bar tentative at best, and the mysterious force becoming fainter and fainter as whatever it is decided to wear off, he didn't really have much time to ponder. His main concern was getting himself anchored, and while the freezing-burning sensation of the mako was quite distracting, he managed to use his SOLDIER enhanced strength to pull himself up and away from the shimmering pool of green, hooking his legs around the support to take some of the strain off his arms. It was a successful attempt, and he was soon able to relax slightly, enough to notice that there were sounds echoing down from the platform, and they were pretty clear considering how far he'd fallen. It had to be the metal, he decided vaguely as he tightened his grip on the cold supports.

"It's a pity." Cloud froze at the muttered words, magnified by the echoing quality to the large room. He knew that voice, knew it and loathed it. It cut straight through the smog of pain and light-headedness, and he heard that hated voice as if it was spoken in his ear, "I had hoped to study the remains; he showed an unusually high reaction to the SOLDIER injections. Just imagine the response to J-cells..."

There was an awkward silence, broken only by the gentle hum of machinery and the scientist's mutterings until the third person in the room spoke.

"Sir? I need to…" The turk again, the words interrupting the professor's lamentations. Again Cloud was struck by the fact that he _should_ know that voice, but it was difficult to place. It wasn't that he had a hard time matching voiceprints to names, but first the shock of the electricity, and now the burning sensation searing his scalp, face, and every other place where mako had met skin, made in-depth recollection rather difficult. Hojo was different, the man's distinctive drawl and way of speech was burned into his mind.

"Clean-up, right." There was a disgusted sniff after he acknowledged the Turk's duty, and Cloud could almost see the hunch-backed scientist turning around, crossing his arms behind his back, "Do make sure to leave no traces—I'd hate it if your first assignment was your last."

There was a quiet 'yes, sir' and then it fell silent, leaving Cloud alone to deal with his situation. There wasn't much he could do, there was a maintenance ladder running up the wall a few yards away, but it was too far away to jump safely, especially with how light-headed he was feeling at the moment. He'd never been particularly fond of mako, but now that was all he could smell. All he could see (he was almost hanging upside-down), and all he could feel. He itched to wipe away the liquid that still clung to his face and hair, nipping and scalding in a way that he knew would leave the skin would extra sensitive once he got rid of it, but knew better. The pain would then just spread to his hands which could weaken his already unstable grip.

"Gaia, Cloud. You look awful."

His head jerked, bleary eyes focusing on the source of the words. A blue suit, a familiar voice. Seeing the face finally clued him into the identity of his attacker. Herne Grant, the squadmate who'd been drafted into the Turks, clung to the nearby service ladder. He didn't look much different than Cloud remembered, same black hair, same wiry frame.

"Look, I'm sorry about—Cloud!"

The blonde was only able to see one hand dive into a blue pocket, and then feel the same magic swirl about him before his hands finally slipped from the bar, and his vision faded to black.

_-Afternoon-_

Pale fingers adjusted the white bandages around Cloud's head, forest green eyes filled with worry as she took in the patient on her bed. He looked so weak and fragile lying there, caught in the throes of mako sickness, nothing like the strong and durable Second Class SOLDIER that she knew he was. Mako was what gave the SOLDIERs their strength and durability, and mako could just as easily take it away.

Aeris sighed, content that the medical gauze hadn't been disturbed too much by Cloud's recent fit of restless, and sank down into the wooden chair she'd dragged into the small bedroom. She hadn't quite believed it when Vincent had gotten the call from her mother, the woman almost hysterical as she explained that a young man in blue had shown up at her doorstep, carrying a mako drenched Cloud. All thoughts of their quasi-vacation from the city vanished in the wake of Cloud's plight and somehow they'd managed to make it back to Midgar in about half the time it had taken them to get to their isolated beach-head.

Vincent had been nearly beside himself with worry, even if he didn't broadcast it too obviously. She could see it in little ways, such as how he'd hovered at Cloud's side for hours before she'd nearly had to physically force him out of the room. As it was, she was almost positive he was hovering outside the closed door, and not getting the food and sleep she'd told him to get.

Cloud stirred, the second time in the past hour, and Aeris' eyes went worriedly to the bandages, the white fabric standing out almost glaringly amongst the bright golden blond strands. Well, they were usually bright, right now a good portion of Cloud's hair was a pale, almost platinum blond, bleached out by the mako that he'd apparently shown up covered in. That thought reminded her of the reason for the bandages that covered a good portion of the teenager's upper torso and his face, grimacing a little at the reminder of the odd burns that were being covered by the cloth. She hadn't been sure about covering them, but Vincent had insisted—apparently he had seen some similar burns in his time, and the polluted air of Lower Midgar wouldn't be very helpful to the healing process.

Cloud continued to toss and turn a she watched over him, face contorting into the occasional grimace or scowl. She even caught some mumbled words—wherever the life stream had taken his mind, he wasn't enjoying it, she knew that much. There was a faint buzz in the back of her own conciousness, informing her that the Planet's attention was on the boy before her, even if she wasn't able to hear the specifics about the episode. The buzz progressively got louder, even to the point where it became painful. It seemed almost as if it were arguing with someone. She wished she could stuff her fingers in her ears and block out the harsh noise, but she knew it was no use. When the Planet wanted to convey something, it wouldn't let up until it was listened to. Aeris knew this from experience, and all she could do was be glad that she was only picking up and the echoes in the lifestream and not the full brunt of the blast.

And then, all of a sudden, the noise died away, followed by a sharp, pained gasp from the boy on the bed. Aeris ignored the residual headache, immediately seeking out the too-bright mako glow peeking out from under blonde strands. Despite the obviously painful burns peppering his body, Cloud was struggling into a seated position, pushing away the thin blanket that had been covering him and revealing even more of his bandaged covered torso. He ignored Aeris' gentle push back to the bed, his head shaking, eyes wild and glowing brighter than normal, "You don't understand!" He whispered, his voice raw, "I have to go."

"You aren't going anywhere." Her voice was firm, even as she managed to get him to lie down—it was a testament to how weak he was that such a feat was even possible, "Gaea, Cloud, you scared us to death like that! What happened? Mom said the boy who brought you in wouldn't tell her much except how to clean off the mako safely."

"Grant." The blonde muttered, shaking his head and glaring up at the flower-girl, "But that's not important. I saw_ her _again, Aeris. It's time. If I don't go—"

Those words froze her in place, and Cloud took the opportunity to slide out of the bed, groping for a black-shirt that had lain folded on the nightstand for his use—due to the size, it was probably Vincent's, and would hang loose on him, but Cloud didn't have any clothes at the Gainsborough residence. He paused when she finally spoke again, nodding in response to her whispered, "It was really her?"

"Yeah." Even the mad sense of urgency seemed to fade as they stared at each other. Aeris felt the faint buzz of the life stream again, the world falling away under the _assurance, necessity,_ and _regret_ that flowed from the Planet into the Cetra. She could feel her body trembling under the tender emotions, wrapping her arms around herself as the blanket of emotions settled around her. She knew it was hopeless, but she was worried for Cloud.

"I knew she was talking to you—I could hear a bit—but you are just getting over mako poisoning. You need rest."

Aeris was talking now, breaking the long awkward silence between her and Cloud. The boy knew she had a point, even when just standing up he felt a bit unsteady on his feet. Every movement burned, and he felt inexplicably dizzy. He knew he had the Planet, and even perhaps his previous exposure to mako, to thank for the fact that he was awake _at all _and not some comatose vegetable, but there wasn't much he could do in this state.

As soon as those thoughts slipped out he recalled the urgency, the concept of 'tonight', and a silver angel that rang in his mind. But there was also a feeling of concern, of rest, brown-hair and a kind smile, much like the girl in the room with him. He scowled briefly at the fractured and unclear nature of his memories, but with his mind awake and disconnected from the life-stream, it was difficult to remember a conversation that took place in it. It wasn't some weird future memory—they remained with an uncanny clarity even after waking, coming to him through natural sleep. These forced visions he'd only experienced twice before, three times total now, and they were always scattered and completely vague, leaving him with only the important points.

Beyond the first time—when he'd been nothing but a scared child, slipping and falling into a situation he did not understand—Cloud had always known without a doubt that he could trust the remnants of the mako-forced visions. That was why he was positive that he had to be in the SOLDIER compound tonight, and barring being tied to the bed he _would_ be there.

He tried to take a step for the door, determined to complete the mission he'd set himself to do, but faltered. The only reason he didn't become intimately acquainted with the floor was the fact that Aeris moved forward, taking a good portion of his weight upon herself and providing him with some stability. "Just a couple hours Cloud. Please."

He huffed, letting her lead him back to the bed, "Fine. But don't try to stop me later."

Her response was soft, resigned, "I know."

_-Early Evening-_

Zack didn't just dislike waiting. He hated waiting. He _loathed_ waiting with all of his heart and soul.

ShinRa obviously knew where the general had gone, a conclusion he'd come to when he received a notice from Heideggar himself, assigning one Zack Fair to take over all administrative duties during his absence. The reassurance did nothing to set Zack's mind at ease.

He knew it wasn't some type of mission—even the ones with the highest classifications would be found within the computer system. Zack's temporary access wasn't enough to access the files, but he could see them, labeled as "Classified" in big bold letters. As it was, beyond the training of cadets and the usual rotating of the patrols throughout Midgar, there hadn't been any formal missions aside from the one assigned to Cloud.

What worried Zack the most was not necessarily his General's absence, although it was completely out of character, but the day he disappeared on. It was the appointment with Hojo, specifically. The professor was the only reason Zack could accept and it gave him a lurking feeling of dread. If after a single session, maybe three or four hours, could leave Sephiroth delirious and vulnerable…suffice to say he was concerned for his friend after almost forty eight hours.

Zack stopped that train of thought as he heard a small crack, felt a wet, sticky substance seep through his fingers. The SOLDIER glanced down and sighed, tossing the remains of the ink-pen into the nearby trashcan, becoming the fourth victim of his mako-enhanced strength. He hated being so nervous, it distracted him and shot his control to hell.

The acting general of SOLDIER rose from the desk, careful to avoid brushing his hand against anything. He really didn't want to have to explain a large black splotch when Sephiroth came back—not if, when. Zack was positive Sephiroth would return sooner or later, President ShinRa wasn't stupid enough to let Hojo's experiments cost him his precious super SOLDIER. It was just a manner of when, and in what shape he came back in.

He refused to think on that further, not wanting to get any more caught up in worrying over something he couldn't fix. First things first, he had to get rid of the inky stain that was settling on his skin. There was a bathroom just down the hall, a good thing, so there wouldn't be any witnesses to his little accident. He could imagine the lecture if it ever got back to Sephiroth.

A bit of soap, water, and much scrubbing, and all that was left was a faint black stain. Zack eyed the coloration, and then shrugged; it would have to do until he finished work. At least now he wouldn't leave any evidence every time he touched something; he just needed to be extra careful it didn't happen again.

Zack was headed back to the office when he spotted something odd in the corridor. Usually the passage to the general's office was deserted, but not now. There was someone standing in front of the door, hand poised as if to knock. His first reaction was annoyance—Zack hated paperwork and didn't want any more of it—but that only lasted until he registered the deep blue suit. The annoyance bled away, leaving behind confusion and more than a little bit of wariness—having one of the Turks show up at the General's office was never good news. Hell, Turks any where were usually a sign of trouble.

"Zack?" The Turk turned around at the sound of his boots against the floor, and Zack couldn't help the smile that appeared upon seeing his old student. He was too good a soldier to completely drop his guard, but he was always happy to see his kids, especially those who'd moved on to professions other than SOLDIER. "Well he-llo. It's been a while, no?"

Grant didn't smile, rookies probably had to practice the whole no-emotion thing so Zack wasn't all that annoyed, but there was a faint twitch of his lips, and a gleam in his eye that betrayed his feelings as he returned the greeting. The two clasped hands before separating, and Zack ushered the young man into the office—"There's no reason to take up the entire hallway!"

The SOLDIER was quite comfortably seated in his General's chair, and Grant had taken up Zack's old position on the other side of the desk. He frowned a little, his attention settling on the light that died in his former student's face now that the pleasantries had been taken care of. Grant wasn't here for a social visit, the presence of his uniform made that little detail very clear.

"So, what's up?"

The Turk sighed, "As you can probably tell, I'm here on business." He pulled out a manila folder that he'd had tucked under his arm and placed it on the dark wooden desktop between them. Zack took it, flipping it open to find Cloud's face staring up at him. His throat went dry.

"As you are aware, Cloud Strife, SOLDIER 2nd Class, was assigned a mission the night before yesterday. He arrived at the site early this morning, checked in with the witnesses, and proceeded to track down the target. He failed to report in as of 16:00 this afternoon, and due to the sensitive nature of his mission, the Turks were called in to investigate."

Sensitive, of course it was sensitive. A monster running around in a reactor was more than sensitive, it was downright dangerous. To both the Company, and the surrounding people. Reactors went 'bang' pretty easily. Zack swallowed, watching as the impassive expression faded from Grant's face, his voice dropping out of the formal reporting tone, "As his former comrade I was called in. There was nothing, Zack. The monster's corpse was long dissipated, but I did find a pool of blood that tested positive as nonhuman, as well as the residue left behind by a dead monster. As for Cloud…there was only his sword, a mako vat, and no witnesses saying he ever left the room."

As his mind drew the obvious conclusion, Zack didn't want to believe it. Didn't, but he had no choice. The logical side of his mind, the soldier who had seen blood and death more times than he cared to count, was telling him to accept it and move on. This wasn't his first casualty. It wasn't even the first he had known personally.

But still. Cloud was _his_ kid. Nothing he could think of or rationalize could change that.

"I just wanted you to know, since, you know, you were our teacher." Grant's voice was quiet, as if he knew the turmoil that roiled within Zack's mind, "They'll be contacting his next of kin within the next day or so—"

"No." The first word uttered since the Turk had begun his narrative, "I'll do it."

A/N:

Sorry for the wait, I started University and have felt completely unmotivated to work on anything other than school work. But…still, I managed this chapter. Sorry for those who were looking for Sephy, but we'll find out what happened to him soon enough. Hope you enjoyed the read, and don't forget to leave a comment.


	17. Part III Ch IV: Science and Preperations

**Part III Chapter IV - Science and Preparations**

Hojo checked the readouts on the computer screen, nodding every once in a while, stopping every now and then to readjust something in the treatment. Almost done. It was moving out of the critical stages; all that was left was time to let his little concoction work its magic, and then the recovery.

An annoying beep broke him out of his focus, the tunnel vision-esque mode he entered whenever deeply involved in an experiment, and he let out an annoyed huff. The interdepartmental line was ringing, the light blinking on the computer terminal a bright red. It was the buffoon again, didn't he understand that Hojo had better things to do than listen to him complain?

With great reluctance the professor set the rest of the procedure to automatic, he'd already triple checked the routines so the chance of error was less than 1%, and pressed the button to answer the call. Maybe if he acknowledged the idiot he'd go away and leave him alone.

The video call connected, a window spreading across the screen showing the caller. Hojo scoffed, he was right, it _was_ the buffoon.

"Hojo! What is this I hear about you killing off one of my SOLDIERs? Using my Turks to do so?"

"That wasn't my intention." He responded, rather bored, drumming his fingers against the cool metal panel. "I'd wanted that specimen to study. It is the fault of your Turk that it ended up dead."

Hojo shook his head, what a waste that was! It had been discovered during the cadet's promotion to 3rd class that S—what was its name again? No matter—that the youth had an unusually high tolerance for mako injections and a very intriguing reaction to them. Unfortunately, the SOLDIER was rather skilled, meaning it would be annoyingly difficult to capture it. That was the reason he'd gone out of his way to plan the retrieval right after the 2nd class examinations.

"Strife was one of the more promising SOLDIERs! Because of your meddling—"

Yada, yada. Heidegger continued in that vein for a while, trying to shift the blame from the Turk to Hojo, but the professor just let it slide off him. Bah. Incompetent baboon. Heidegger was barely above a monkey as far as brains went.

"I demand some kind of compensation!"

Oh? Do you now? The absentminded scientist slowly slid away, Hojo finally deciding to give the overgrown primate his full attention, "If you must know, I _did_ have permission to retrieve that specimen. I broached the topic with President ShinRa some time ago, and he gave me permission to act. I even submitted the request to _you_, and _obviously_ you permitted it since the specimen was assigned the mission."

A satisfied smile spread across the scientist's face when Heidegger froze. He could see the wheels in that fat head turning. Truly it was Heidegger's own fault; the idiot had a tendency to randomly approve mission requests without reading them. He'd just glance at it, sign on the dotted line, and then push the rest of the work off on his assistants. Unfortunately this little trick didn't work all the time, any mention of Sephiroth or Zachary had the buffoon triple reading the pages. Not that Hojo had to resort to such…sneaky tactics to play with Sephiroth, but he'd had a few projects in mind for Zachary Fair.

"In fact…" Hojo continued, not giving Heidegger enough time to figure out a counter attack, "I should be the one demanding compensation. Because of your Turk's inability to follow instructions, I lost a valuable specimen. He was ordered to apprehend, or if that wasn't feasible, collect the remains for study. By now the specimen has probably been mutated beyond use in all that mako."

"Urk—Hojo, well, erm…" It was so much fun turning the tables on people like that. Any and all bluster was gone from Heidegger, although the oaf did look rather red in the face, from embarrassment or fury Hojo didn't know, or care. He glanced at the clock ticking in the corner of the computer display, drumming his fingers faster against the panel, the man was still trying to save face. "I'm sure—er—we could work something out…?"

"I'd hope so." The professor shrugged nonchalantly, inwardly gleeful at how he was slowly grinding the annoyance into dust, "I could always talk to the President…"

Bingo. Heidegger went white, jaw dropping. All he had to do was threaten to get the president to slash the budget and the oaf would crumble into dust. It was exceedingly useful to have the ear of the person who controlled the budgets, and as long as he kept promising the Promised Land, it wasn't likely he'd lose it. It disgusted him, this filthy game of politics, but it had its uses.

"No, no, no need for that Professor." Heidegger laughed uneasily, trying to put on an unconcerned face, to act like the prospect didn't bother him that much. "Ah, how about I offer you a trade? A, ah, specimen in return for the one killed."

Hojo removed his glasses, polishing them, putting on his own disinterested airs, "And who would that be? Fair?"

"No! I ah, mean, Fair is too valuable, too public. If he were to disappear…" Heidegger coughed, yelling off the screen for someone to get him a glass of water. "What about the Turk? The one who cost you your…specimen."

Hojo sneered, replacing his glasses, "Turks have no resistance to mako. At all. What use would he be to me?"

A Turk just wouldn't be useable for the projects he'd had in mind. Of course, he could always come up with something if he needed too. Turks were generally resilient individuals, especially since they had to make up the difference between mako-enhanced and not without the enhancement, and it was very easy to make them vanish without awkward questions. Valentine had been a good example of what he could do with a clean Turk, and what an _interesting_ side project that had been. He almost mourned the loss of the Chaos project; it had been such a valuable research opportunity.

On second thought, he could always try and recreate and expand on the principles of that project. He'd learned quite a bit over the years since he'd locked Valentine away, and it would give him something to work on while waiting to see if his Reunion Theory was accurate.

"I would much prefer another specimen with Strife's mako tolerance, but if you fail to find one, I 'm sure we could work something out."

Heidegger frowned but agreed. He didn't have much choice to do anything else.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." The professor abruptly canceled the call, quickly checking to make sure it had been recorded. It had. Good, he could use it as evidence should Heidegger change his mind. He highly doubted another SOLDIER with Strife's unique reactions would come around, but if one did, well, he'd make sure he got one of the more experienced Turks on the job; one that knew what would happen if they failed a job for the Science Department. Hojo chuckled to himself, quality specimens were so hard to come by.

The professor turned back to the readouts, glancing to the side to where the wires led. Out of the corner of his eye he could see him, the most valuable specimen of all. At least his original project was still moving along as planned, and just in time, too. President ShinRa was giving him grief for taking his "super soldier" General out of commission. Bah, the money grubbing executive knew nothing about the importance of his work. At least once his theory was proven he wouldn't need the man anymore, or his company.

He eyed Sephiroth once again, double checking the IV that was currently pumping a faint yellow liquid serum into his arm, miniscule shards glittering as it passed through the clear tube. It wouldn't be long now. According to his calculations the treatment would be finished in another hour, and Sephiroth himself should sleep until morning. Then he could administer the counter to the inhibitor.

His side ached, remembering when he'd been shoved into the wall before the inhibitor had taken effect. The General hadn't been pleased when he'd been told he couldn't leave, but Hojo knew how to deal with his own creation. Just a prick and he'd been out cold, strength sapped. Even the great General could be taken down by a tiny needle, and Hojo was the only one with that secret. He laughed, giddy at the memory, it felt wonderful to have power over a soon to be _god._

--

Zack sighed, looking up at the clock. Damn thing, he couldn't justify putting it off any longer. He cleaned up the mess on the desk, the file lying open staring up at him, mocking him. He just had to submit the paperwork to change Cloud Strife's status to KIA. As much as he hated to admit it, the evidence presented by Grant did not present many possibilities for Cloud to be alive. Zack felt sick even thinking about it, Cloud had been _his_ kid damnit! He'd even taken on the burden of informing Cloud's mother! That looming task felt like it was hanging over his head, and it made the prospect all the more real. He was definitely going to wait the official period before making that trip, but even before that…

How was he going to tell Vincent…?

Zack tore his eyes away from the folder, snapping it shut, cutting off the smiling picture. He wasn't looking forward to that meeting at all. Zack had done his share of informing family members, but never before had those members been his _friends._ But it was because Vincent was his friend that he felt the need to let him know right away. He couldn't justify keeping the news from him.

The SOLDIER shoved the file under a random pile of paperwork, a small thought in the back of his mind noting that Sephiroth was going to kill him when he came back. It was a mess, papers everywhere, and the general's once immaculate desk looked more like an Academy student dorm room. But it was okay. Seph was going to come back, he would put it to rights.

With a final glance Zack flicked off the light switch, closing the office door shut and locking it behind him.

--

_"Don't know... why the hell... we gotta climb..."_

_"Yo... What floor is this?" _

_"...I gave up counting."_

_"Why they gotta build these buildings so damn tall?"_

A faint nudging feeling pulled Cloud out of his sleep, away from a dream of stairs. An endless sea of stairs; he'd been looking for someone, there was someone…he'd needed to rescue. He shook his head, waving off the faint sense of urgency that had accompanied the dream, it was time.

Cloud slipped out of the bed, noting absently that someone (probably Aeris) had pulled the blankets around him after he'd drifted off earlier. He hadn't meant for it to be a long sleep, just a short nap to regain his energy. He wandered to the mirror hanging on the back of the door, what he saw made him frown. He could feel the bandages, and a dull pain from the burns beneath them, but he hadn't realized how...many there were. He looked like one of those monsters from his mother's tales, the zombies that wandered the deserts, wrapped in nothing but bandages. Cloud shook his head, it wasn't time to think about old fairy tales, the bandages would make him stick out, but the burns would probably be even more memorable. He ran a finger along one of the strips of cloth, wincing at how sensitive the skin was to the touch, even with how light his touch was. He'd definitely have to leave them.

Cloud tore his attention away from the mirror, stalking across the room where he could see the glitter of his materia, sitting in a mythril bangle on the night stand. Grant had said he needed his sword for evidence, so the materia was the only weapon he had at the moment. The materia and the knife he'd had stashed in his boot. It wasn't much, but as long as he didn't attract too much attention it should be enough.

He had his back to the door when it opened, in the middle of hunting down his boots. The sound had him straightening up in no time, glancing across the room to where Aeris was closing the door behind her, something glittering in her hand. She looked up, and Cloud was taken aback by the concern in those deep green eyes. He wanted to reach out to her, tell her that everything would be fine, but he didn't say anything. He was planning something with the potential to be suicidal after all. Sneaking into Hojo's lab was foolhardy on the best of days, and here he was considering doing it with a severe case of Mako burns and a lack of weaponry.

Even though there was concern, he also knew that Aeris understood why. She was the only one who had the faintest idea of what he had to do, of why he had to do it. Wistfully he remembered when they first met. He'd been thoroughly freaked out—

-_"I know you!"-_

--and she'd been just as calm and understanding as ever. It had to have something with her connection to the Planet, especially since the Planet was supporting him in this foolhardy venture. It had been the Planet that had told him of his chance, in this timeline altered by his own actions.

"Cloud…" Aeris sighed, putting her hands behind her back and leaning against the door, watching him with those worried eyes of hers. Cloud tilted his head to let her know he was listening, grabbing his boots and sitting back down on the bed, pulling them on and trying his best to ignore the stabs of pain as he kept moving and stretching the burns.

"You've got to do this, right? Nothing I say can stop you?"

He nodded, though he kept his attention on his shoes, lacing them up and sliding the small knife into his right one, "Yeah."

She was quiet, and it was a good couple sentences until he heard her moving away from the door, across the carpeted floor until she was right in front of him. It was only then he looked up, as she took his hands in hers, placing a cool green sphere into them. "Then take this. It might help."

The materia felt cold, the green indicating a magic materia. He probed the depths, search for the identity of the magic. His eyes widened as it whispered back to him, a sense of escape, flight, _Exit_, "Aeris—"

"It won't work inside the lab, but I'm sure you knew that." She was saying, her hands still holding his, the materia between them, "I don't know where you'll end up, either. My mother used it to escape the ShinRa building, and ended up in Midgar, but I understand it is very rare, _exit_ing to the city you are currently in. Still, if worse comes to worse, and you can't get out otherwise…"

"Thank you." Cloud smiled at her, drawing away his hands and reaching to pick up his bangle. He slipped out an ice materia, replacing it with the gift, the Exit materia snapping into place with a small _snick. _"Don't worry, I've done this before. I—" He cut off, realizing what he was about to say _rescued you._ He shook his head; it'd been some time since he'd made a slip like that, referred to his dreams as if they'd actually happened. He wouldn't let them happen.

"I need to get going now."

And then Aeris surprised him. Without warning she threw her arms around him, giving him a quick hug before pulling away. She put her hands on her hips, giving him a pointed stare to reinforce her words, "You _better_ come back, you hear? As it is Vincent's going to kill me for letting you do this. He's also going to kill me for sending him on an errand so you could get away." She paused, "You come back to make sure he doesn't. AND to explain what's going on. The man has a protective streak a mile wide when it comes to you."

Cloud chuckled, "Believe me; he'll thank me in the end, if this works." He remembered how broken Vincent had seemed at the end, forced to help kill the last thing left in the world of his love, once Lucrecia's spirit moved on. He'd done it, but the last thing dream-Cloud remembered was Cid telling him that Vincent disappeared into the wilds of Wutai, just wandering.

But that wouldn't happen now. He had a home. A home with Cloud's Mom, with Aeris and Elmyra, with Zack and of course Cloud.

Cloud slid the materia bangle onto his wrist, flicking the clasp to tighten it securely. He needed something to cover the worst of his bandages, a hat, cloak or something, maybe some glasses to hide his eyes. He had some money—he always kept some in a hidden pocket inside his uniform in case of emergencies—and could probably grab something from Wall Market on the way.

Aeris politely excused herself, there wasn't anything left to say that hadn't been said, and left Cloud to his own devices. He bundled up his SOLDIER uniform; it would be useful camouflage once he reached the ShinRa building.

The ShinRa building…

_"N... never wanna see... no more stairs the rest of my life..."_

It really was pathetic that there weren't any cameras or alarms in the stairwell.

--

Cloud was walking down the street, a newly purchased hat pulled down low, covering his tell-tale blonde hair and mako-bright eyes. The bandages on his face were still visible, there wasn't much he could do about them, and so he suffered a few stares as he made his way toward the SOLDIER compound's quick access elevator. He could take the train, but this would be faster. He still had his keycard, and since KIA or MIA SOLDIERs weren't processed for a few days there was a good chance it'd still work. From there he could easily get to Headquarters.

He stood in the drearily lit room, before the closed doors of the elevator. The hum of machinery filled the air, telling him that it was currently in route from the plate to the slums. Cloud wondered who was heading down to Lower Midgar at this time of night, going through his memory and absently listing off SOLDIERs who were most likely, just to pass the time. Zack was at the top of his list, of course. Zack…

Zack probably knew he was "dead" by now.

--

The elevator's carriage settled with a faint clang, and Zack pushed himself away from the wall, the folder tucked under his arm as he waited for the door to open. The hiss of pressure being released and the doors slid open, letting him step out into the pollution tainted air of the Midgar Slums. There was a single person waiting for the elevator, but Zack didn't really give him more than a cursory glance. His mind was off in the clouds, playing the upcoming meeting over and over in his mind. How was he going to tell Vincent Cloud was dead? He'd been trying to come up with a way the entire way here, with no luck. He didn't really want to believe it himself.

The person stood there frozen as Zack passed—wasn't he waiting for the elevator? It wouldn't stay down here for long. Zack noticed that the guy was hurt, the white of bandages peeking from under the hat, along with wisps of blonde hair. For a moment he held out the hope it was Cloud, but then his mind kicked that wistful thought and ground it into the dust. Cloud wouldn't just stand there and let him walk by. Cloud's hair was a deep, sunny golden blonde, not the platinum, almost whitish that he could see from beneath the hat. Plus, Cloud was dead.

The guy moved when Zack had passed him, stepping into the elevator. Before leaving the room, the SOLDIER 1st glanced back, only to see the doors closing..

--

**Announcement! Chapter 1 and the Prologue have been revised. More details to follow.**

And now back to the regularly scheduled Author's Note:

s'not quite as long as the last chapter, and probably not enough after such a long wait, but this was where it wanted to end. I'd had this ending in mind ever since I decided on this plotline, Zack passing Cloud without realizing, and Cloud letting Zack go without saying anything.

We see Sephy again~ of course, he's drugged and out cold, and it's from Hojo's POV, but at least we know he's alive, right?

For those who haven't noticed (which shouldn't be many, considering the bold announcement), the prologue and the 1st chapter have been revised. There isn't much of a difference plot-wise, but I added details, especially to the prologue, and now there are clues about why Cloud has the dreams. As for the 1st d chapter, I tried to make Vincent more in character. I hope it worked. Let me know please? In a review? –hint-

P.S: Is it just me, or does add to the word count?


	18. Part III Ch V: Blinking In and Out

Part III Chapter V

The doors opened with a faint ping, releasing their passenger in the center of Midgar. To the left, the way to the SOLDIER compound. To the right…

Towering above everything, looming in the faintly green-tinged gray sky was the ShinRa building, windows glowing brightly as the sun began to set. It was a bit of a distance from the elevator, but it wouldn't be hard at all to get there. After all, only SOLDIERs and ShinRa personnel had access to the elevator so it was inside the main security perimeter. Cloud tugged on the uniform he'd slipped on over his clothes on the way up, the best idea would be to…confiscate one of the helmets the guards in the building used, that way his burns would be covered and he wouldn't look as out of place. But…it wasn't really worth the risk. The stairs would take him up to the 60th floor; there weren't that many personnel that high up. As long as he was careful, he should be fine…

-

Zack walked up to the white picket gate—it was so out of place down here—and the cheerful, quaint piece of landscaping tried its hardest to make this seem like a normal day, a normal visit, where he'd just hover around and bug Vinny to no end, compliment Elmyra on her cooking, pester Aeris about how well she knew Cloud, and then gossip about said pointy-haired, chocobo-headed SOLDIER to whoever would listen. He almost let himself believe that, but the abnormally heavy weight of the folder under his arm shattered that delusion quite easily.

"Get a _grip_ Zachary." The SOLDIER muttered to himself, shaking his head furiously and pushing through the gate. The lights in the windows shone warmly, invitingly, even though the simulated sunlight that served as the Slum's 'day' indicator hadn't started dimming yet. A familiar rustling and a faint squawk came from the gardens. Just like every other visit, SpitFyre, the now three-year old black chocobo stuck her head over the top of the garden's hedges upon hearing the creak of the gate, and threw a rather enthusiastic warble in Zack's direction. He smiled weakly and waved at the bird—it hadn't been too long ago when the bird would come bursting out of the hedges whenever someone came, which would wreak some of the less hardy plants, and leave the unlucky visitor (generally him) to get tackled by a few hundred pounds of chocobo.

He continued his way up the path—slowly, it seemed to stretch on and on before him, the house pulling further away from him with each step he took. Not that he minded, he really didn't want to do this now—

The gate creaked behind him. Zack flinched, but resisted the urge to turn around. Maybe it was just Aeris. He could deal with Aeris. Though he didn't want to tell her that Cloud was dea—

"What are you doing here Zack?" And it just _had _to be Vincent's voice that cut through the air. Why was this so hard? He was a SOLDIER for Gaea's sake, he wasn't afraid of telling the truth! Steeling his courage he turned around, pulling the heavy folder away from where it had been plastered at his side, "Well Vincent…you see…" And he stopped and stared.

"Zack…?" The confusion didn't quite manage to draw Zack's attention away from the glittering, gold, _sharp_, metal that covered Vincent's left hand, the hand that was usually left unused and completely covered by an over-long sleeve, sometimes even tied off at the end. That sleeve was rolled up now, golden-colored claws curled around the handles of a white plastic bag, containing what seemed to be…groceries? It wasn't even the gauntlet that seemed so incredulous, but seeing the normally intimidating man lugging around four, filled grocery bags just seemed so…weird. Was that a toothbrush sticking out of one?

Vincent followed his gaze and frowned, before giving a faint shrug, "So you now know."

Zack imitated the movement, catching on that Vinny probably didn't want to talk about it. There had to be a reason he kept the _wickedly cool_ claw gauntlet hidden. He gestured vaguely to the bags in each hand, "Groceries?"

"Aeris asked." Ah, right. If Aeris asked, you had to have a pretty good reason in order to refuse. It was really hard to say no to her, especially if it was something as trivial as running and picking up some groceries. "I thought you said you wouldn't be able to visit."

And the bit of cheer he'd regained just plummeted right back down like a sack of weights. Really, really heavy weights. Right, he had said something like that, when he'd found out he'd have to take over Sephiroth's job for the foreseeable future. "Yeah, it's been busy. I have something I need to talk to you about. Cloud is…"

"Hold that thought." Vincent shook his head, cutting Zack off as the SOLDIER moved to hand over the folder. "I too have something I need to ask, can it wait?" He shifted the bags a little, and started heading into the house.

"I'll be out here…" Zack had to swallow down a 'No'. He just wanted to spit it out already. Running the possible conversations over and over in his head was not a pleasant way to pass time. _ Vinny my pal, I regret to inform you that Cloud, you know, the kid you're supposed to keep an eye on? Well, he's kinda been listed as missing, very likely dead. A turk went to investigate and the evidence points to a rather fatal dive into a mako reactor. Now, what did you want to ask?_

Psh…right, like that would go over well.

How did one go about telling a good friend their little-brother type friend was probably not coming back? Maybe he should have waited the official period until he got the letters from the company, saying the deceased (insert name here) had led a good and loyal career and they'd sacrificed their lives for the Company and blah, blah, blah. He'd handed out them before, and while it was hard to watch the reactions, it had to be easier than this.

Of course, given how much Vinny disliked ShinRa, he probably wouldn't appreciate all the flowery language stating that Cloud's death had been for the good of the Company.

Or maybe…_Hey Vinny! See this folder right here? Well, I want you to read it. See, there's been some trouble with Cloud._

Which reminded him, he could get in so much trouble if someone found out he'd removed company records from the compounds without permission. Especially since it was a report on a Turk investigation. That department was rather touchy about information leaks, something about compromising their methods. If it was discovered he'd actually willingly disclosed the contents…

Bah, rules be damned. He knew Vincent wouldn't believe him if he just up and said that Cloud was…gone. He'd need some kind of proof. Zack didn't have a body to go by himself, but…Grant was right. The evidence at the scene pretty much spoke for itself. No self-respecting SOLDIER would let himself go without his weapon. Nor would they go this long without a check-in with his superior officer. Even when severely injured. Every SOLDIER was outfitted with a well nigh indestructible PHS, and during a mission it was tucked into a holster, so it wouldn't fall out or get broken, just to make sure there was always a way to contact them.

The mere presence of the folder also served to catch attention. He'd seen Vinny's eyes flicker to the ShinRa logo stamped in plain view on the covering, eyebrows drawing together in a momentary confusion before the man managed to wipe it from his face with a skill that always made Zack's instincts itch. He was prepared to swear up and down that Vinny had military training in his background, or at least experience. Of course the man would never admit to anything, he was still as annoying a mystery as he was three years ago.

_That's right, think of something else. Anything else._

While he was on the topic, why did Vinny hide that claw-gauntlet of his all these years? Zack had seen stranger pieces of armor on _civilians_, and he wasn't even going to go into military personnel. It had to have gotten annoying, not being able to use his left hand for years on end. Even a dominant right-hander used both hands to lift something, or just to _touch_ something.

Before he realized it, Zack had begun pacing, moving nervously in a sort of half-circle, half something else through the Gainsborough "yard". It actually wasn't all that uncommon; Zack in general had difficulty standing in a single place when not in military mode. He didn't even realize he was doing it until he was distracted by a quiet "Zack?"

Ah, right. He was back. Zack straightened up, turning to face the black and red splotch of a man making his way down the porch steps, although even the SOLDIER's enhanced hearing couldn't pick up the slightest noise from the act. How to start, how to start—

"You are acting…strange tonight." Vincent stopped a few feet away, those odd red eyes watching him, and even in the light, Zack could see a faint glow from them. Not, not quite SOLDIER eyes, but close. Zack chalked it up to being from Nibelheim, just like Cloud.

"Yeah, well…" He fished for the right words, opening and closing his mouth, and then shaking his head when he threw out some of the ideas. Argh, this was too hard. Just at that moment, under the piercing gaze of the marksman, Zack cracked. The pressure that had been building all day, ever since Grant had dropped by with his news, and his mind thinking in circles about how to break the news hadn't helped with it. "Vincent…Cloud…I…" The folder fell to the ground with a plopping sound, slipping through suddenly nerveless fingers. The other hand curled into his spiked black hair, as if warding off a headache.

Cloud's picture stared up at both of them from where it had slipped out of the manila bindings. A faint shifting of gravel—_he was letting himself be heard—_and Vincent was kneeling down, gathering up the papers when Zack didn't make a move to stop him.

The rustle of paper, those red eyes shifting as Vincent scanned the top pages. Zack waited. Waited. Not sure what to say, or do, or anything.

At length, he looked up. "I already know."

_What…?_

_-_

He'd forgotten how busy the ShinRa building was. Last time—no, that never happened—it had been almost empty, only the night shift was still in the building. Now, it was the ending of the work day, the entry was _crowded_, with the day workers leaving, the night shift arriving. Sprinkled among these were the guards, guards that might notice something off.

Luckily, Cloud knew how to be sneaky. After sticking around Vincent for years, you picked up a thing or two. He skirted the edge of the crowd, the purple of his 2nd Class uniform drawing a few eyes, before they just slid away. SOLDIERs in headquarters might be uncommon, but not unheard of. The normal workers wouldn't be informed if something required them in the building. The guards however, might stop him if they could, so he made a point to avoid the Regular guards, using the ebb and flow of the civilians to block himself from view.

There, finally. The path leading around the building split off from the main walk. Half hidden by bushes on either side, Cloud made quick work of the electronic lock (funny, he didn't remember that) with his keycard. A SOLDIER of his class could technically get as high as the board room on the 60th floor. If he wanted, he could chance the elevator, but something said no to that idea.

The emergency lighting bathed the stairwell, bathing it in soft yellows. Cloud craned his neck, looking up, and up, and up. Well, nothing to do, but start.

--

"What do you mean, you know?" Zack said slowly, studying his friend's face. He hadn't known what to expect, but it sure as hell wasn't that answer. He was miffed, all that agonizing over what to say, what to do was all for nothing. There was also a bit of relief, mixed in with a healthy bout of suspicion.

_How would he know? I just sent out the paperwork _today_ and Grant said he informed me first—_

Vincent didn't say anything, studying Zack with a strange expression the SOLDIER hadn't seen much from Aeris' bodyguard. He'd seen it before. Many times. From _other _people. That was the look Sephiroth had given him before deciding to break down his walls and tell Zack why he was as vulnerable as a kitten once a week. _Can I trust you_? _Should I?_

The prospect sent a shiver up Zack's spine. He and Vinny, they didn't trust each other much. Sure they were good friends here in the now, without thinking about work, or things left in the past. But their entire relationship was built on distrust. It was Vincent's reluctance to tell him anything that had gotten Zack interested, and Vincent didn't trust ShinRa, so if Zack was going to be around his charge…then so would he. Later, he genuinely grew to like Vinny, and he liked to think Vincent didn't mind his company, but he had no delusions about being trusted. The fact that he knew almost nothing about his friend told him that.

At length Vincent turned, waving his not-clawed hand to motion Zack forward, "Inside."

--

_Lessee…was that 42? 45? _Ah, 45, there was the door. Cloud had lost count somewhere in the mid thirties. But he knew there was a door every 5 or so floors, so if he kept that in mind he could guestimate where he was.

_Not that I need to. The stairs stop at 60._

He couldn't hear Tifa and Barret complaining/arguing anymore. _Did I leave them behind?_ He stopped, the echoes of his fast-paced stair climbing dying. Looking behind him, he couldn't see a trace of the martial-artist or the gunman. Not a sound either. They must have stopped to rest without telling him.

_Hmph, weaklings._ Well, they would have to catch up; they knew where he was going. He didn't have time to waste. The Turks took Aeri—

Wait…Aeris was fine. She was with…Vincent. Suddenly he felt dizzy. Cloud leaned against the wall, putting a hand to his head. Bandages. But he wasn't hu—

_Mako, mako everywhere. It burned, it froze, but he had to hold on. Couldn't die here._

_What the hell just happened?_ Cloud wondered, staring up the many, many more flights of stairs he had to climb. Tifa was in Nibelhiem still, working as a mountain guide, and Berret…he had no idea where Barret was.

_Gotta be an after effect of the mako_. He decided at last, shaking off the dizziness and starting up the stairs again. He _still_ had a great deal of excess mako in his system; it took many days to process and breakdown. Days that most people would spend in a coma.

--

After seeing Vincent's expressionless face and Zack's bewildered one, Elmyra had excused herself to the kitchen to work on dinner. Aeris was upstairs with Cloud, so that left him and the SOLDIER alone in the living room. Vincent continued to study Zack out of the corner of his eye, watching for anything—anything that would prove his choice wrong.

The young Turk hadn't told Elmyra much before he disappeared, most of the details had been filled in by Cloud later. The most telling was the scientist mentioned in passing by Cloud, who came to survey the aftermath. It left the demons in Vincent's head clamoring for blood (not that they didn't on a weekly basis) and for once, he found himself agreeing with them. How dare that psychopathic, mad excuse for a professor! Turks were only contracted out by directors, which meant only one scientist would have the clearance to order this job. Cloud hadn't said Hojo specifically, but Vincent knew.

Oh he knew…

To ShinRa, Cloud was dead. And Cloud was going to stay dead to them if Vincent had any say to it. Cloud had tried to use the company to get what he wanted (not that he knew what that was…) and it ended up turning on him, betraying him to an inhumane scientist who wished to use him as a _specimen._ The mere thought had a growl building in Vincent's throat, though he was too well trained to let it out. He would not wish his worst enemy under that madman's scalpel, there was no chance he would let it happen to Cloud.

_Not that you knew. _A sardonic voice whispered, _If it weren't for the little Turk's defection, you wouldn't have known._

With every ounce of will he could muster, Vincent shoved that voice into the metaphorical closet and locked it, throwing out the key. It didn't matter. Cloud was suffering from a light case of mako poisoning, but the boy was alive. That fact was something ShinRa was not going to know.

Which led him to this dilemma. The SOLDIER was getting twitchy, impatient. Zack was ShinRa.

But…Zack was also Zack. Cloud's teacher. Vincent's…friend. He'd watched Zack for few moments from the windows after handing off the groceries to Elmyra. He'd been impatient, nervous, worried, all mixed up with a huge knot of sorrow, and loss, and a sense of _my fault_ that Vincent could recognize even from a distance. The man risked severe punishment as well, for sneaking this report out. Vincent could feel the ShinRa seal burning through his glove. Zack had to know how much trouble he would be in, should it be found out.

…Zack deserved to know.

"Cloud isn't dead. I saw him under an hour ago." He saw the SOLDIER go pale and doubtful, even a little angry. Vincent understood. Zack _cared_ about his students, he'd probably had a hard time convincing himself that Cloud really was…gone. To have all that effort, that pain wasted…And if he thought Vincent was _lying_ about it… He probably was trying to keep from raising his hopes.

Vincent cut Zack off before he could say something, fixing the younger man with a pointed _sit-down-and-listen_ stare he'd had to use on Turk cadets before. Almost automatically the SOLDIER paled even further (if that was possible) a spark of—recognition?--sparking in those violet eyes before he automatically snapped to attention and did as he was told.

_The Turks didn't react quiet that way…but close enough._

"This." Vincent waved the folder, careful not to let its contents go flying, "Is a decent example of a Turk cover up, containing mostly truth, and selective omissions. Fact, Cloud did meet a monster in the reactor. Fact, Cloud was pushed off the scaffolding."

Zack tried to interrupt again, Vincent didn't let him. He wanted to get this over as soon as possible. "The Turk was the one to incapacitate Cloud, and then push him off into the vat—"

"Grant would _never—"_

"You'd be surprised what a Turk can and will do, if ordered to do so." Zack was too naïve, believing the best of people. He never would have made it as a Turk. At least SOLDIER was mostly an honest organization. They may do ShinRa's dirty work, but they were open about it. "Your Turk then cast a low level float spell to slow the fall, allowing Cloud to catch a hold of one of the lower supports. After reporting the false death, the Turk retrieved Cloud and brought him here, with a minor case of mako poisoning and burns."

Vincent paused, thinking back. Cloud was _lucky_ he wasn't comatose. That raw, unrefined mako, plus the injections he's just gotten for 2nd Class shouldn't have been processed so quickly. Most of the reported cases he remembered were out for days, weeks, before they woke up. _If _they woke up.

"_Why_ did Grant report the death?"

"Think about it Zack. Grant is a Turk. Who has the authority to order a hit?" Or retrieval, as it most likely was.

"Heidegger, or the Presi…" The SOLDIER trailing off. Ah, now you realize.

"Exactly._"_

Zack was silent, and Vincent didn't even try to imagine what was going on in the SOLDIER's head. After all, it wasn't often you learned the company was trying to off its own employees.

_I knew that years ago. _The thought drifted by, a wry, almost sarcastic feel to it.

"I want to see him." It was soft, almost trembling with _dare to hope_, but it wasn't a request.

"I'm afraid that's not possible." Aeris's voice filtered down the stairs, soon followed by the flower girl herself. There was a taste of salt on the air, and dried tracks on her face. _She's been crying._ Her voice and bearing was surprisingly strong. But if she'd been crying—_Cloud!_

"He's fine." She reassured them both, who'd jumped to the same conclusion, "It's just…he's not here anymore."

--

This place was so familiar. So familiar—but Cloud knew he'd never been here before. He'd never been this high up in the ShinRa building. Actually, he'd never been in this building period. The SOLDIER complex operated separate from the company headquarters, despite being within walking distance of each other.

Maybe not in this lifetime. But there was a part of him; the part that surged to the forefront whenever he fell asleep, that _knew_ how to sneak into the building. It _knew_ where to find the ventilation shaft that stretched out over the executive board room—perfect for spying. The same board room he was currently staring into. The doors were thrown wide, empty, except for a single person, washing the windows at the far edge of the room.

If Cloud looked to his right, down the hallway leading to the stairs heading up, up to the level that house Professor Hojo's lair, he would almost swear he could see a hunched, white coated figure, hear the muttering to himself about the captured Ancient, and the Promised Land.

But when he blinked, the apparition was gone, leaving nothing but the deserted hallway.

_It's like I'm dreaming. _The thought was rather disturbing. Cloud knew very well he wasn't asleep and dreaming Aeris' rescue. The bandages on his face proved that, the missing weight on his back proved that. He felt that missing weight keenly. It wasn't his own sword he wanted, but the Buster Sword.

At any rate, he was almost there. The lab was just a single floor up. Aside from the short, but frequent reality lapses, the trip to this point had been rather uneventful. Easy even. Security in the building was child's play compared to when AVALANCHE was running about. ShinRa was secure and confident that the threat of General Sephiroth would deter any would-be Wutaian assassin or rebel leader that they hadn't restricted the floors below 63 to ordinary building personnel.

_Phft._ Cloud rolled his eyes; this had been far too easy. He wondered if the professor would be absent minded enough to leave the 64th floor unlocked again.

…_Yes…he was. _The green light blinking above the door confirmed that.

The lab just as he expected. Specimen tube under bright flood-lights, something red curled on the floor—

But it wasn't the lion-wolf he was half-expecting. It seemed to be a monster, blobby and oozing. Cloud tore his eyes away from it, taking in more of the room. The tank that once—_will--won't_—house Jenova's headless body was missing.

He headed toward the back of the laboratory, toward where he remembered the cargo elevator to be. The place was deserted. Not even a lab tech wandered through the containers. This level was mostly a storage room, but Cloud found the emptiness a little unsettling as he climbed into the elevator, pressing the operation button.

The metal rattled and shook around him, winding his nerves tighter, putting every sense on high alert. He was in the middle of enemy territory—instinct whispered, punching through the faint sense of urgency that'd driven him since waking up in the Gainsborough residence. He had to be careful now, about twelve times more careful.

The elevator gate slid open with a _shing, _Cloud stepped out slowly, quietly, moving up toward the crates and the barrels clustered around the elevator, peering around them and into the depths of the upper level. The top floor of the specimen tube was empty, and the professor absent from the observation deck. There was a lab-tech rummaging through a container, near the front of his shield. The SOLDIER crept closer, noting that, like most scientists, the tech was muttering to himself.

"—got to find that—" Cloud didn't recognize the following term "The director will be back—no, not that piece of junk! Why does he want this _now?_ He's far too busy with project S… The president wants that done first."

Project S…Sephiroth? He wasn't sure. The only label he remembered Hojo ever used was "Reunion". The tech gave up on his current box and closed it, moving on to the next one; closer to Cloud's hiding space. His body tensed, too close.

A swift movement, circling around a few boxes to position himself behind the unsuspecting tech, and a blow to the head, and the white-coated man crumbled to the ground, slumped over the box he'd been opening. Cloud looked over the incapacitated scientist. He could have just snuck by, but the chance of discovery would have been too high. He had to find Sephiroth.

The bunch of limp weight was heavy in his arms, but to a SOLDIER, it was nothing. Cloud positioned the unconscious man in a gap in the boxes. Out of sight. That should buy him some time. He didn't remember the professor having more than one assistant, but it would hurt to be on the safe side. It was unlikely things would be the same anyway.

There had to be another room here, somewhere. There was no way Hojo had merely one specimen containment cell. It would be squirreled away, out of sight, just in case someone not on his staff came in. He doubted Heidegger would be happy if he walked in and found Hojo taking apart his best SOLDIERs. But where…where…

It was so cluttered; only open near the specimen container. There didn't seem to be any signs of a hidden room around the giant, glass tube. Too open. A quick prowl of the walls showed there wasn't a door or concealed entrance. Aeris' once—future—prison was empty thankfully. Cloud was having enough trouble trying to convince himself that Aeris was safe, at home, and not here.

Without thinking he gently touched one of the green orbs in his bangle, the cool, glassy surface of the materia comforting. Another thing to keep him grounded in the here and now, not in what might be.

The next on the list to check was the observation booth, Cloud picked his way up the stairs, and inside the steel and glass structure. The booth itself was clean, and intact, no matter how tempted Cloud was to ram his fist through the panels of scientific instruments. Breathe in, and out. Stay calm. He had to keep that mantra in mind, or he'd probably lose himself and tear the entire place down with him. Whatever the mako was doing to his memories was becoming quite a problem. While he didn't particularly care if the lab was trashed, he was sure that tampering with the delicate equipment would raise an alarm somewhere. Since he didn't know where Sephiroth was…that would not be wise.

Despite being unguarded, the instruments were alive and humming, probably waiting for the currently unconscious tech to return. The monitor screens were essentially Wutaian for all he could understand them. All save for one, where the diagram of a human body was displayed, some sort of statistics or data being constantly updated, with more of the undecipherable code. There was some red writing blinking near the top, an alert of some sort.

His eyes narrowed onto the bottom label, _Project S._

_You _are_ here._

Not that he doubted when he'd seen the General strapped to a table, along with _her_ saying it was time. Too many coincidences by now had confirmed the truth in his dreams, and the visions. She told him that now was _key_. He had to get Sephiroth out. Somehow. Someway.

A small part of his mind, the part that had been growing in the _now_, the SOLDIER 2nd, told him he was wasting everything for some hallucination. If _she_ knew everything, then why didn't she fix it all herself? Why did she need him? Why did he have to throw away the position he held, to do her bidding?

That voice was squashed rather vindictively. Ground into the floor. _What position? A science project?_ Thanks to Hojo, that was all he was worth to the company.

_I was expecting to sever ties with the company, _Cloud thought wryly, _just not this soon._ _Or this way_. To be honest, he'd been hoping to hit 1st class first.

He didn't deny that it worked. He would have to tell Zack to thank Grant for him, after this was all worked out. The observation room didn't reveal any more answers, sending Cloud back outside again.

_Where haven't I looked? _It was unlikely Sephiroth would be downstairs, from appearances the 64th level was mostly specimen storage and inactive experiments and equipment. Project S was obviously active, judging by the displays in the control room. The security was lighter on the 64th level as well, which was why Cloud had decided on that level for entry.

…come to think of it, what better place for a secret project? If it was adequately hidden, most people would pass on by and turn this place upside-down instead.

Getting irritated—this was taking too much time!—Cloud stepped back into the cargo elevator, punching the down button with a little more force than he'd meant to. The control panel buckled and snapped, crumpling under the force. The elevator shuddered, before moving, rattling its way down before getting stuck about half way.

_Damnit…_

The display over the door flashed red. There was a mechanical failure and a maintenance worker would be by shortly. Please be patient and wait for the problem to be solved. Right, like he was going to stick around.

Not for the first time, Cloud wished he had his sword with him. The large blade and his strength would easily let him carve an opening out the bottom of the elevator and drop the rest of the way. It was only a two floor elevator anyway, easily survivable, even with his current handicap.

Cloud looked over the elevator, zeroing in on the small escape hatch on the roof. He was a bit short…missing the height that would allow him to easily access the hatch. But at least this elevator wasn't as tall as the glass ones that ran along the building's exterior. Just a jump, a flick of a latch, and a push had the SOLDIER pulling himself out on top of the metal compartment. Every movement echoed in the elevator shaft, every shift of his weight sending tremors through the car. The emergency clamps were in effect, so he didn't have to worry about it falling.

Glancing up, he could see the light shining out of the upper doorway. It was an option, but one he'd rather sit on. The elevator shaft was still the quickest and stealthiest way down, even if the actual car wasn't working. There _had_ to be some sort of maintenance ladder somewhere. How else would they manage to fix a stalled elevator?

There, along the back wall ran a shallow groove, just deep enough to allow a person to fit and climb past the compartment. He couldn't see very well in the doom and gloom, with only the emergency lighting and the weak spillover from the open door. Perched on the edge of the car, Cloud reached into the groove searching, searching—

His fingers curled around cold metal. Perfect. A bit more tactile exploration proved that there were indeed ladder rungs, _and_ enough room for him to use them to bypass the stopped car. There were times Cloud really liked being smaller than normal. As he slid into the groove he was keenly aware of how close the walls were the lack of room. It was almost suffocating. If he'd been any wider in the shoulder, he might not have been able to make it down.

It was child's play to jump from the ladder to the narrow ledge running along the gated door. All he had to do was reach through the crossed bars blocking the way and find the emergency release, sliding the gate out of the way and slipping through. Now this place was familiar. Hadn't he just come through here half an hour ago? It was just as dimly lit, just as spooky, and he _still_ wanted to smash every piece of equipment he could see.

_Calm down._ He was getting frustrated now. He knew Sephiroth was up here. Somewhere. He couldn't afford to waste more time. Eventually that tech upstairs was going to wake up. Eventually maintenance would get the call about the broken down elevator. _Eventually I need to get out of here._ His head was beginning to ache. The strength keeping him going was starting to ebb. And he knew the burns all over his upper torso were going to come back to haunt him once this was all over. All this moving around was just adding stress to the already painful injuries.

_Okay, do a slow sweep of the room. Don't overlook anything._ He told himself, moving again through the haphazard boxes and containers. There was no evidence of any other room over along the far wall, behind the specimen container. As he moved toward the large cylinder, the red blobby thing twitched, aware of his presence, but didn't do much else. Cloud didn't spare it much attention, inspecting the walls.

_Not here._

He turned, looking back toward where Jenova once—might—be stored. The huge tank was missing, and the area covered by more dusty stuff. Only…there seemed to be more room behind the dust covered containers than he'd previously expected. Poking around revealed a squareish area, about the size of the Jenova container, that wasn't used. Despite the cluttered feeling permeating the entire floor, aside from the initial row of camouflage there was nothing back here. Nothing. If he hadn't known how big the tank was supposed to be, he wouldn't have thought twice about it. Narrowing his eyes in thought, Cloud zeroed in on the walls, especially the back one. Running his fingers along the wall, they caught on something. A seam in the metal, raised slightly, running from floor the ceiling. And next to this seam was an off-colored panel, which after a few taps revealed a key-pad.

_Bingo._

Now was the tough part. Cloud had no idea what the key-code would be. He felt along the wall, locating another seam where the door would be. It was no good. Too tight. He couldn't get a good grip. It didn't even take a few experimental tugs to tell Cloud that he couldn't force the door open that way.

The lab tech upstairs was an option, but there was no guarantee that he would know the code for a secret door. Not to mention with the elevator out of commission, it would take too much time to run upstairs, grab him, and then run back down. And he knew a SOLDIER carrying an unconscious technician would likely draw too much attention from Security.

Metal rattled against metal, along with a soft groan of machinery. Cloud froze, listening, it was coming from the cargo elevator. He wouldn't have heard it if he wasn't on high alert already, just waiting for some sign that he'd been found. Using the containers as a buffer, he left the hidden corner enough so that he could see the back of the room. The "out of order" light was still blinking.

Did the tech wake up and try the elevator? Unlikely. He'd hit the guy hard enough he should be out for another hour yet. He could have just been hearing things, but something told him to wait and see. Cloud didn't head back into the corner, but stayed in his current spot, hidden, but he could see both the main entrance and the elevator. Just in case.

Minutes passed, each one feeling like a wasted eternity, but Cloud waited, watching the main entrance like a hawk. It took about 5 minutes for a normal person to take the stairs at a walk, factor in another 3 or so to call maintenance about the elevator. Add another 2 to be safe…

Just as he was counting down the final minute, there was a hissing as the door slid open, the green light over head flickering briefly to red as the machinery worked. Cloud thanked his paranoia for adding in the extra time and hunkered down behind his camouflage. To be safe, he didn't risk peering around, but he heard the footsteps and angry muttering, the latter of which told him who it was.

"tell _me _to walk?! That buffoon Chermen broke the elevator _again_, and he has the gall to hide from _me?_" The sneering voice sent a mix of emotions through Cloud, fear, anxiety, and something very akin to hatred. He found his fist clenching, the urge to just start smashing things—preferably the professor's head—even stronger than before. Hojo. He almost forgot to breathe. He'd taken too long—he'd meant to be out by the time the professor came back.

"He probably couldn't even find what I told him to look for." The tirade continued as the professor neared, "I needed that –"Cloud didn't catch the rest of it, focusing his attention as the white lab coat drifted into his line of sight. The professor was grunting as he moved some of the heavy looking containers, forming a small path of sorts to the hidden corner. This was…unexpected luck.

Cloud waited until he heard an electronic "beep", and saw the professor disappear out of his sight. Quickly, quietly now he maneuvered through the containers, counting on the professor's usual habit when it came to doors—Yes! He didn't close it all the way!

The room was large. Larger than he'd expected. A large computer display was set against the back wall, the lit screens the current source of light, casting an eerie green glow that gave Cloud shivers. Hojo was tapping away at the computer, reading through diagrams and other notes that Cloud knew he'd probably have trouble analyzing, even if he'd been given unlimited time. Hojo had a tendency to code his things, paranoid bastard.

The professor hadn't noticed his entrance, as enraptured by the display as he was. Cloud did his best to ignore the structure along the left wall, knowing if he acknowledged it he would probably fly off the handle. He'd been keeping this disgust, this almost foreign anger in check the entire time, and it was wearing him down. He really didn't have much valid reason to hate the man. The only contact he'd ever had was during the SOLDIER injections. But lurking in the back of his mind were images seen through the green of a mako tank. Watching the failed clones crumpling from exhaustion, some tumbling from the cliffs in the Northen Crater. A detached sense of himself, _begging_ for a number, only to be spurned.

He could reach out and grab Hojo's ponytail if he wanted to. It would be just as easy to wrap his hands around the man's neck. It was a tempting thought. Extremely tempting. But no, he didn't want to kill him. Not here. Not now. He had a job to do.

Suddenly the tapping sound stalled, the professor's head lifting up and focusing on the display screen, and more importantly the hazy reflection against the black and green screen. Cloud paused in his advance, still within arms reach, but not sure what to do yet.

After a long silence, Hojo bent his head and returned to his work, not even bothering to turn around.

"I'd suggest you leave." He grumbled, his voice sounding more annoyed at the interruption than angry or nervous that someone else was in the secret lab. Maybe it wasn't really a secret after all? "This a critical experiment—I don't have time to deal with you."

The typing stopped again when Cloud refused to move, refused to say anything. Letting out an annoyed sigh, "I told you to lea—"

And the professor turned around to find a knife in his face. Cloud wasn't exactly sure when he'd pulled out the weapon, but it was there, held tightly in his shaking hand.

Cloud got a fleeting glimpse of annoyance on the professor's face before it melted in indifferent arrogance, "That won't do you much good." There was almost a half- sneer in there, on his lips, and in his voice, "Heidegger knows that threatening me won't speed things up."

Heidegger…? The name floated through the haze that was flitting around Cloud's mind. Then he remembered the uniform he was wearing. SOLDIERs were commanded by Heidegger…Did the Head of Public Safety often send SOLDIERs on errands?

"Now go tell him he'll get his General back when I'm done. I work faster if I'm not constantly interrupted."

Cloud didn't put the knife down. If anything the shaking in his hands intensified. He had Hojo. Alone. He head was already fussing in and out of reality, torn between the warrior who experienced hell at Hojo's hands, and the young SOLDIER with a mission. Even the irrational hatred of the lab and its equipment was nothing compared to the burning desire to end it all now. Right here.

The professor noticed, even he could feel the bloodlust radiating off the SOLDIER. He began to rethink his assumption that Heidegger had sent him, and while he did tense up a little, he didn't lose his air of arrogance and authority. The hand laying on the consol twitched, moving toward a certain button. To distract the crazed looking SOLDIER, "You wouldn't dare." He chuckled, eyeing the offending knife with contempt, "The equipment in here is delicate. Who would work it, if not me? There are plenty of unsupervised projects I must attend to." His fingers were almost there, touching the security call button.

The movement caught Cloud's eye, bringing him back to the present. His free-hand snaked out and grabbed the professor's before it could depress the button. He jerked the scientist away from the console, not the slightest bit gently. Hojo hissed and tried to squirm away as his arm was yanked and twisted with more force than Cloud had meant, but it didn't really register it.

He didn't have time to play around with this snake. There was only a brief struggle before the professor went limp, crumpling into a pile of dead weight, suspended off the ground because Cloud was still holding him. There would probably be a bruise when he woke up, hopefully a big, black noticeable one too, right on his temple where Cloud's knife pommel had knocked him out. As much as he wanted to rid the world of the rat in a lab coat, killing him here just seemed…wrong. Not to mention Vincent would probably want to deal with the rat himself.

He let Hojo fall completely to the floor, scanning the rest of the room, searching for the General he knew was there. It wasn't that large of a room, and he noticed a glint of silver behind the set of mako-tubes along the left wall. The sight of them had bile rising in his throat, but he ignored them, maneuvering around to find another small chamber set back into the wall behind. Here was what he'd been looking for. A large metal table sat in the middle of the room, the limp form of the General lying on it. Asleep. Sephiroth's customary leathers were missing, replaced with grey hospital-type scrubs, washing out the already pale man even more. An IV line of some sort lay on a nearby table, and Cloud could see an angry red mark on the pale skin where it had probably been inserted. The line was attached to a mostly empty pouch, only the dregs of a mysterious yellow liquid.

Cloud eyed it distrustingly before turning back to Sephiroth. He shook the man's shoulders, "Hey. Wake up."

Given how still the SOLDIER was lying, Cloud hadn't really expected it to work. In truth, seeing the faint breathing was the only thing that told him Sephiroth was still alive. That, and the fact that Hojo probably wouldn't kill his precious pet project.

He tried again, harder now, but still no response.

_Why can't things be easy for once?_

_A/N: _No, I am not dead. I just...well...I've been writing this over the past month, little by little. It's a bit longer than usual...but that's cause I wanted to at least get to seeing Sephi. At first I wanted to go further, but...well...I got to where it ended now and just wanted to get the chapter out, so...yeah, cliffhanger.

I have a question for peoples. This chapter...I can't think of a title for. Any suggestions on one?

Thanks for all the people who reviewed the last chapter :s Reviewing does work to kick the author in gear, ya'know? Especially months after the chapter was out. Basically someone reviewed in...early July and got me thinking about this again. Which got me motivated. Which ended up with this chapter. So there ya go.

Hope ya like the chapter ~ Any comments? Leave me a review. Confused about anything? Leave me a review. Just want to speculate on what might happen? Leave me a review n.n I especially love reading the reader's (your) thoughts about what might happen/has happened. Sometimes they make me think about something I didn't think of, or something I missed, or something I should do.

So yeah, what I was trying to say was...Review~

-Katreal


	19. Part III Ch VI: Chance of Clouds

**Part III Chapter VI –****Gloomy with a Chance of Clouds**

"You just let him go?"

Zack wouldn't quite call it yelling, Vincent's voice was no louder than usual, but he got the feeling this was as close as he got. There was something in the tone that told him Vincent was ticked. Beyond ticked. Zack would even say it was closer to furious than ticked. He should know. Sephiroth did the same thing often enough.

The words didn't even cover how _Zack_ was feeling. He couldn't decide whether to be angry or confused, and that was after getting down to the bare basics. If he had to add in the suspicion lingering in the back of his mind, stomping rather forcibly on dying embers of hope, well, there was a reason he was trying to ignore them.

_Cloud is dead—Cloud is here—Cloud was here—Cloud is dead._

If _the kid was here, _If_ what they said was true, Cloud would be too injured to leave._

Aeris said he left. Aeris didn't lie. She looked like she'd been crying. Vincent was furious. Elmyra was hiding in the kitchen.

And Zack. Zack felt rather numb.

Every instinct he had said Vincent wouldn't _lie_ about this. He was the kid's protective older vampire figure, had followed him across two continents for crying out loud.

Vincent was radiating cold fury, but Aeris didn't waver.

"You sent me away. Deliberately." Vincent stated, drawing Zack's attention back to the conversation. The girl didn't deny it.

"I tried to talk him out of it." She responded, picking at and smoothing out her pink dress, "It didn't work. Vincent—Please, he'll be fine."

"He was poisoned."

"He's had worse."

"He shouldn't have even been awake."

It continued in that vein for some time, until Zack got tired of the back and forth. He sighed.

"Repeated exposure builds immunity."

Green and red turned toward Zack at his interruption. He gave them a faintly startled 'What?' look. "As a SOLDIER rises in the ranks, he's exposed to more mako at a time. The more previously exposed, the less reactive we are to it. What would poison a non-enhanced person would leave us with severe weakness, but conscious." He paused, seeing Vincent weighing the statement, and the flash of relief from Aeris, before adding, "Granted, I don't know of anyone shrugging off prolonged exposure. Especially after the Class shots."

It didn't seem to help much. Vincent was still worried. Angry. Even if he didn't show it in more than the increasing frostiness of his stare. Zack understood. If, _if,_ Cloud was alive, he didn't want him running around while suffering mako poison either. But they were wasting time _now_. Zack glanced at his watch, almost an hour since he'd gotten here.

"You know what guys? I'm going to go home. I'll…I'll find Grant tomorrow. I need to think."

Vincent didn't acknowledge him with more than a curt nod, giving Aeris one last disapproving look before—not quite storming, it wasn't obvious enough for that—beating him to the exit. The brunette sighed and glanced up at Zack, "He really is okay."

_I believe you._ He wanted to say, but his throat seized up. Instead he said goodbye and left the lit home, making his way into the darkness of the slums.

If they were telling the truth—_if, if, if, if—_then that meant Grant had lied. If Grant had lied, then someone higher up had told him too. The Turks may be involved in dirty business, but it was _Company Sanctioned_ dirty business.

Zack still liked to think he was helping people through ShinRa. Liked to think, when he had field assignments, he was a hero. Killing monsters to keep the people safe. Removing rebels before they did something disastrous like blow up a reactor, which could do serious harm to life and living. His orders came from Heidegger.

The Turks only answered to the Head of Public Safety—Heidegger—and the President. If they were ordering hits on SOLDIERs…

The thought left him sick to his stomach.

What else could they be doing?

What else could they be covering up?

--

_Why won't he wake up?_ Cloud had done everything from yelling at the comatose general, to claiming Zack was going to dye his hair hot pink, before finally slapping Sephiroth across the face. Any one of the three would usually elicit a reaction, but it was the last that made the uneasy chill grow to alarming worry. Whatever knocked out the general was strong enough to smother both SOLDIER and Jenova's inhuman, instinctive reaction to an attack.

SOLDIERs who didn't respond to an attack _died_. To see a war bloodied general completely unresponsive…

Hojo had something to do with it, Cloud was certain of it.

There were papers scattered around the room, loose papers, notebooks, and whatever scrap of napkins Hojo'd had at the time he needed something to write on. For a scientist he seemed to like hardcover copies. Nibelhiem had been like this, research notes and books everywhere, and the green glow of the computer monitor didn't help much. It reminded him too much of the view through mako-green glass.

He checked the computer first, not even bothering to look further when an inactive re-log-in box popped up as soon as he tried to look through the data. Paranoid idiotic scientist. Cloud resisted the urge to kick him as he stalked past, heading for the piles upon piles of loose notes. There had to be something here that would tell him what the mad scientist had used on Sephiroth—it would be far easier to get the man out of here if he could support himself. Sephiroth had at _least_ two heads over Cloud; it would be extremely awkward to have to carry him.

Not to mention he was starting to hurt. His hands were shaking, making Hojo's triple-encoded chicken scratch even harder to read. His body had been telling him he was up too soon, too long, should be asleep right now recovering—Last time he'd take a dip in the lifestream he'd felt weak for days afterwards—no, there was no last time—Northern Crater, falling into blinding green like a puppet with its strings cut.

The papers told him nothing, and Cloud cursed Hojo's tendency to write in code. He was only straightforward when it suited his purpose, like the oh so convenient books placed under the Mansion, right where they would do the most harm to an unsuspecting General…

He threw them down, the off-white leaves scattering to the four corners of the lab. A couple of them slid up right next to the professor, the resulting touch causing him to stir, eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the unexpected sensation.

Damn. Damn. Damn. Cloud checked the clock in the corner of the computer screen. He'd been in here for an hour at least, the tech would be waking up soon, not to mention Hojo and maintenance. He was running out of time.

There was one last thing he wanted to check. Sitting on the tray attached to the IV line was a clipboard, a quick glance told him it looked an awful lot like the medical chart one would find at a sane doctor's. After a thought he pulled the papers off the board, folded them up, and stuffed them into his uniform. For one, Sephiroth might want to see it, two, if he had more time, he might make some sense of it. He then returned to the cold metal table, and the hospital garbed Sephiroth.

"How am I supposed to get you out?" He asked the silence, noting that there was an absence of restraints. Well, that was one less thing to get rid of. It was odd though, given a SOLDIERs automatic reactions, and aversions to doctors. The presence of the IV line hinted that maybe Hojo'd used some kind of sedative, although he'd never heard of one powerful enough to cause this level of obliviousness.

If anyone could come up with one to work around both mako and Jenova, Hojo would be the one.

He shook his head, brushing away the webs of old pain and bright, shining needles.

Running out of options, Cloud ended up doing what should have been impossible, and maneuvered the much larger man off the examining table and into his grip, a somewhat modified fireman's carry only made possible by mako enhancements. He almost toppled once, steadied and adjusted his balance. He just needed to get outside the confines of the building, Aeris had said, then Exit would take care of the rest.

He had no chance of getting out without security catching on—the only access he had to the outside was through the balcony on the President's Floor, or all the way down on the first floor. The office was just a floor or so up, but the security would be much tighter, probably even a Turk or two on guard.

Down it was. With a grunt Cloud was moving, one hand wrapped around his burden, the other pushing open the door.

Another groan from the doctor caught his attention, automatically causing a look-back, and then a glance at the door, more specifically the automatic lock. Cloud closed the door behind him, waited for the faint click of it locking, and then plunged his fist through the delicate electronics buried inside the hidden key pad. He ignored the spark of broken wires around his fingers—nothing compared to the jolt Grant—Reno in another time—had given him—and then yanked, tearing out the pad and dropping it on the floor.

The door refused to budge when he tested it. Perfect.

He had no delusions that Hojo would be stuck in there forever, but it felt satisfying.

His footsteps echoed down the metal hallways, abnormally loud, and he winced at every sound. He was just waiting for a guard to round the corner, or the previously called maintenance to arrive, or…even a stray security robot could be a major problem. Normally he could reduce a pack of the things to scrap metal without much effort, but right now…burdened down by the weight of a rather tall man, and his body beginning to shake from exhaustion and paranoia…

"I'm kidnapping Sephiroth." The thought floated through bundled nerves, and seemed ridiculously funny as he reached the stairwell. Cloud shifted the general to a slightly more secure position, trying to decide. Up or Down. A few floors up and tighter security or 60 some down, which would take more time, energy, and increase the odds of bad luck landing in his lap.

_Unless I don't have to go all the way down._ There were windows. He remembered them. Saw them through the open doors of the board room, some poor sap clinging to a scaffolding to…wash…them.

_Of course!_

As he headed down the stairs he turned his mind to the materia in his bangle, to the exit spell shimmering warmly with the residual energies of an Ancient—_Aeris . _She said it wouldn't work in the building, but outside? Sixty floors up in the air? Even as the question formed the energy within the orb shifted, answering with a reassuring pulse.

_And now the materia is _talking_ to me. _He was starting to feel light headed. Maybe not talking exactly, but it was reacting. _Had_ to be the mako.

He stepped out of the stairwell, landing on the richer than usual carpet that covered the entire executive floor. The halls were eerily empty, the entire trip, nothing like last time when the halls were crawling with Regulars, SOLDIERs, and automated security drones.

_Was security really this bad? Was the heightened security really because of AVALANCHE?_

Then again this ShinRa wasn't teetering on the edge of a precipice, but secure with itself and its place in the world. There weren't any terrorists running around blowing up multimillion gil worth of reactors and the surrounding infrastructure. It wasn't facing the monetary and civil consequences of dropping sector 7. This ShinRa still had _Sephiroth._

The weight on his aching shoulder and in burning arms made him smile, pushing shaking legs just a little further. There was the board room now; the doors were still open—no! The windows were shut.

_Now what? _He wasn't sure he could make it down sixty flights of stairs and still have the energy to cast the spell. Elevators were out because of his cargo.

Cloud crossed the room, leaning into the glass and looking down. A length of steel hung a floor down, suspended by thick steel wire from the floors above. A small slip of a man in ShinRa's grey janitorial uniform stood on the far side, far enough that Cloud could drop down without knocking him off. It wouldn't even hurt. Much.

It might startle the guy. It would be best to give him some sort of warning. He stalked over to one of the huge, overstuffed chairs around the table and slipped Sephiroth off his shoulder. The pain eased as he leaned the tall man back into the chair, rolling his shoulder to try and further relax the aching muscles. He still hadn't so much as twitched. The medical notes seemed to burn against Cloud's chest—he was worried and itched to stomp back upstairs and beat the answer out of Hojo.

He shoved the thought away, summoning more of his waning strength and grabbing the largest, heaviest, gaudiest chair of red and gold—the president's, he remembered with a hint of cheer—and chucked it as far as he could. It shattered the glass and flew straight out, definitely missing the scaffolding, though he could hear the startled yell of the poor guy. The exertion caused him to stumble back, leaning against the chair he's stashed the general in.

Okay, spinning. Stop the spinning. The garbled yelling got even more muffled as the janitor scrambled into the safety of the open window to call a guard. Got to hurry. It was twice as hard to maneuver Sephiroth back on his shoulder, his body crying for rest. As soon as he got out of here…

He looked down, balancing on the window edge. The four foot wide piece of steel swayed just a floor below. Broken shards of glass waited, lurking, gleaming faintly in the window's light.

He tightened his grip on the general, took one hand and reached out to grab the wiring, hooking his arm around it. Feet left carpet, met air—a burn against his uniform, cutting through it to skin as he slid down the line. Wind teased, tugging at them both and spewing clouds of silver hair about them.

"You! Stop!"

Cloud's boots touched down on the metal, glass crunching, but luckily not puncturing the soles. His hand uncurled, leaving a bright angry red friction burn against his skin. Normally it would be nothing, but it ached. Damn mako. Getting drenched in it was killing his stamina. Even after getting the shots it wasn't normally _this_ bad.

_Duh, more mako. Need we remember being a vegetable?_

The shouting was coming from inside, from a blue uniform that Cloud barely glanced at before reaching out to the lingering feel of Aeris in the bangle. The materia responded eagerly, sucking away at his remaining energy—

"_Gaea, he has the GENERAL!"_

And the world vanished in a wash of green.

Soft hands touched his shoulders, and he looked up into the face of someone he knew Aeris would give anything to see again.

_We've got you._

He relinquished what little control he had on the magic, and his exhausted mind shut down.

The next thing he knew there was dirt beneath him, and it wasn't the uniform, bland ash of the wastelands surrounding Midgar. Rocks of various sizes poked painfully into his back, along with something long and twisted he hoped was a root. The smell of plants filled the air, almost overwhelming his senses after years of the city's pungent air.

_It's clean. Natural. With a faint tang of mako._ The last part narrowed down his location considerably. Only Nibelhiem and Gongaga had mako reactors in the middle of the wilds, and given he wasn't freezing—

He cracked his eyes open. In the shadows of dusk Cloud could make out the presence of trees all around him. They weren't the tall, bristling pines of his home, but the more broad leafed, tropical plants native to the Gongaga area. It looked like the exit materia had dropped him off in the middle of the forests, hopefully the town was nearby and he could figure out how to get Sephiroth to a _sane_ and ethical doctor—

Sephiroth!

He shot up from the ground, the sudden motion resulting in a renewed burst of pain and exhaustion. It sucked at him, dragging him back down. _Sleep_! His body cried, but Cloud forced himself to ignore it, staggering to his knees, searching in the dimming light for his silver haired burden. A vague human shaped silhouette lay not too far away, and the dying sun caught on a weak gleam of silver. Cloud dragged himself over, searching hands landing on a still, hospital scrub garbed chest.

Too still. Chill settled in Cloud's stomach as he automatically searched for a movement, sound, or breath. Anything. The general had been fine, if comatose before they'd left the building. Now…now…

Half-remembered mandatory first aid classes sprang back to mind, along with even fuzzier images of a little girl on a shadowed beach shore. _Breathe. Breathe._ The command whirled around in his mind as he pushed against a muscled chest, leaned over to try and introduce air to stopped lungs.

He kept it up far past it would be too late for a normal human. Sephiroth had Jenova, he wouldn't die this easily. Cloud knew it. He _knew_ it.

So why the hell wasn't it working!?

Time slipped by, filled with nothing but push and breathe, push and breathe. Eventually Sephiroth shuddered, body wracked by heavy, hacking coughs. Coughing was good; coughing meant whatever was blocking the airways wasn't anymore. Something glowing green and liquid appeared in the corners of Sephiroth's open mouth, each cough spitting up even more of the—he couldn't even call it mako. It didn't look like mako, didn't smell like mako—but with each splash of the stuff on the ground the General breathed a little easier.

_It's almost like he drowned._ Cloud realized, wiping away the stuff and wincing at the familiar freezing-burning of it as it seeped through his sleeve. _It's not mako but it's—_

He watched as the pooled green slowly lost substance and dissipated into wisps, sinking into the ground.

_Lifestream? But why would there be—_

The hands, that voice, green everywhere. As soon as he'd activated the materia, everything had been green.

_Hadn't that been another dream?_

--

The guard left the booth to take a break—and mostly likely take a smoke, if the tendencies Vincent remembered from decades past were anything to go by. People didn't change much, and he _knew_ smoking, while allowed in the hallways, was not permitted near equipment. The security booth was full of delicate surveillance equipment, and he'd seen the on-duty guardsman twisting and chewing on the straw of his soda like a long time chain smoker. He'd spent enough time watching the man, waiting, so once the door shut he dropped from the crawlspace between the ceiling and the floor above into the center of the booth. ShinRa hadn't changed much, for all the years that had gone by.

Ever since learning Cloud had gone out on his own there had been cold dread gnawing at him. Hojo—or another scientist—had ordered that retrieval—he _knew_ it was a retrieval, he'd participated in enough in his time to recognize one—which meant, if Cloud had been caught, or come on his own, it would be to the lab.

Vincent didn't dare try and break into the lab. He _knew_ this security. The outdated, it's not broken so don't fix it, system in place on the lower floors. Should he try and head up to where the important stuff went on…he knew he could break it given time, but he didn't want to risk it, not when he didn't know what to expect. If he were to crack Hojo's security, he'd want to take a long look at it first Better safe than sorry. After years of living in Midgar he didn't want to at last alert Hojo to his presence.

But he had to know, and the surveillance footage was a start.

Knowing he only had a limited amount of time before the guard would return, Vincent surveyed the setup. There were a lot more buttons than he remembered, but the basic controls appeared to be the same, and he quickly found the keystrokes to access the wall of screens. The system of identification was the same as well, and it only took a quick foray back into his memory to find the numbers that corresponded to the lab area. He had to cycle through a few on those floors to find the right angle; the amount of cameras seemed to have multiplied, areas he remembered having one view, now had two or three angles.

He found the viewpoints he wanted, those trained on the entrances to the labs. The interior cameras weren't hooked up to this system; he knew that, so he didn't bother looking. The screens were empty for the moment , so he quickly, but carefully moved back in time, eyes trained on the screens as a security guard, some sort of unfamiliar robot, or the occasional well-dressed executive walked backwards through the hallways, up or down the stairs.

Vincent's hunch proved right when he reached a point in time some hour and a half before. A small man—about the right height—appeared in the stairwell near the higher floor entrance. Vincent paused the recording, backed it up some more until the man was standing at the top of the stairs, then rewound until Vincent could see all of him, and then paused it.

Right size, right build, even right hair, limp and faded as it was, it matched what Vincent had seen when Cloud was lying comatose. Mako did funny things to someone who'd been overexposed. He couldn't see the face well, not with the large man being carried half over the shoulder, half in his arms. He kept backing it up slowly, slowly, until the camera got a glimpse of the face, at the white bandages covering a good portion of burned skin. It was Cloud.

Knowing he was going to be cutting close to discovery, Vincent noted the time and found the camera a floor down, Cloud and his burden continued down the stairs. He found the next, and the next, until Cloud finally left the stairwell. Vincent tracked his target along the hallway and into the meeting room. When Cloud placed his burden into a chair Vincent paused it, freezing the frame and inspecting the person Cloud deemed it necessary to break into ShinRa Headquarters for.

The silver hair made him frown puzzled, not many people had such an odd metal on snow coloring, but it was the face that really threw him. It felt familiar. The nose, the cheekbones, the entire facial structure screamed that he should know it. Even the way the fair fell around the face nagged at him, but something told him the hair should be darker, the skin a little more tan, the face more feminine—

Eyes widened in shock. _Her._ He looks like _HER._

His enhanced hearing alerted him to the sound of boots scuffing the corridor outside, and Vincent found the button he _thought_ was the reset button and pressed it. The two monitors he'd commandeered flashed back to their original settings, and by the time the door was opened, Vincent was gone.

_That could have turned out better. _Aeris thought wistfully, staring out the window at the dim light—it was never completely dark. She had a brush in hand, hair unbound over her shoulder, using the rhythmic motions to distract her from harsh words.

She'd known Vincent would be mad. She wished she could have told them, made them understand _why_ she let Cloud go. Why she wasn't worried. But they couldn't know. They couldn't know that she heard the whispers of the Cetra, of the planet. The voices were extra loud around the young SOLDIER, they wanted something from him, something that had to do with a certain scientist's lab, something they'd spent years working on…

Aeris sighed and lowered the brush, letting it fall and bounce on the floral patterned comforter. She closed her eyes, blocking out the memory of Zack's hopeful, but suspicious expression when he'd demanded to see Cloud, blocking out Vincent's silent, cold, yet furious stare when she admitted he'd let him go, and loosened the ties binding her mind and body. The physical world—the bed beneath her, wall to her back, small white materia rolled between fingers—all fell away, leaving nothing but the whispers that followed her day in and day out, the pulsing heart of the beautiful world she lived on, carrying the souls of her ancestors and millions of others to their next life.

They felt strange tonight, subdued, the loud, almost incoherent statements dying away as she came near, leaving behind a vague sense of disappointment. Sadness. Her mind immediately returned to Cloud, the Planet had been almost frantic about his mission, if it were disappointed—

_The dream-seer, _she started, projecting her thoughts into the roiling mass of consciousness, _is he—_

_Reassurance_. It pulsed back, more feelings then words. An image formed around her, taking over the soft green background.

The warmth was the first thing she noticed, despite night shrouding the scene. It was true night, complete darkness save for a sliver of moon and the twinkle of stars, nothing like the perpetual twilight caused by the slum's lighting. She'd only seen it once, the one night she'd been lying on a lonely beach north of Midgar, a trip cut achingly short because of a frantic phone call from her Mom, when a young Turk carted in a Mako poisoned SOLDIER…

The memory brought her back, and focused on the image. She'd asked about Cloud, so he should be here—

There. She could see the silhouette, starlight touching on too pale hair, not quite back to its impressive blonde spikes, but recognizable enough. He was curled up in the grass, back to, and leaning against another person. This one was much larger, taller, a metallic silver shine over his shoulder.

She knew that no monster would trouble their sleep, despite an obvious lack of shelter or fortifications. Through the Planet she could _feel_ the predatory aura rolling off that man, an…unnatural presence that would repel all but the most powerful—or stupid—of the Planet's creatures.

_Is this the man you've risked so much to save? _She asked the sleeping Cloud, moving closer to the pair. The Cetra were yelling at her. They didn't like the alien presence within the silver haired man. It gave her the chills from across the clearing, but it felt strange. It should be much stronger. There was…almost a net over the man's tainted inner lifestream, subduing it. It felt odd, a mixture of the Planet's magic—materia?—and the cold indifference of science. She reached out with her essence and moved to brush it away—

_**NO!**_

The Cetra's reaction was deafening, and she felt herself yanked violently away from the starlit clearing. The scene vanished, leaving furiously roiling green thrumming around her. She was able to feel a frighteningly strong sense of disapproval before she found herself falling onto something soft and familiar, flower printed bedspread pressing against her cheek. Aeris pushed herself back into a sitting position, confused, and reached—only to jerk back, her mind assaulted by a ringing headache. She felt like a door had just been slammed in her face. Hard.

_I was kicked out._ The last living Ancient thought with mixed feelings of bewilderment and amazement, _That's never happened before._

_-_

The phone was ringing. The thought managed to pierce the haze of sleep, prompting Zack to grope blindly with one hand for the phone next to his bed. He felt his hand hit it, heard it clatter to the floor. It didn't stop ringing. Didn't sound like the landline anyway. It wasn't close enough, but it had been worth a shot anyway. Zack lamented that he wouldn't be able to roll back asleep as he forced himself out of bed. His PHS was across the room, still in its holster in his uniform where he'd thrown it upon returning home.

He covered a yawn with one hand, reaching with another to extract the PHS. He hit the on button and put it to his ear, "Lieutenant Fair." He grumbled, annoyed at the late call. A glance at the clock blinking up from the floor—so that's what he'd hit!—showed it to be well into the You-better-have-a-damned-good-reason-to-call portion of the night.

Not that he'd never gotten them before, but he was tired. Emotionally drained, and wanted nothing more to sleep until he had to trudge back into an empty office and _hope_ his commanding officer would be back, so he could go back to goofing off and avoiding work like usual.

No, it wouldn't be back to normal. He still had a Cloud shaped hole to deal with.

_Note to self: track down Grant._

_Tomorrow._ He tacked on to the end of that thought, looked at the clock, then amended it, _later today._

Hopefully another six hours later.

"Congratulations. You've been promoted. Get your ass to Headquarters, Fair. There's an emergency situation."

Heidegger?

Promoted?

The line went dead, leaving Zack blinking blearily at the PHS in his hand.

A/N: Yes, I know it's been forever. No, I don't really have an excuse. Just lazy, as usual.

It seems like every time I take an extended period of time between chapters I end up reworking the (remaining) plot. Not that that's a bad thing, I like the changes better. It makes me want to go back and rewrite the beginning though. The problem with having these huge breaks is that my writing style changes every chapter it seems. Is that annoying?

In case no one noticed, yes I did finally get around to changing Zack's name. Fair eventually grew on me, and I just couldn't think of him as Knightblade anymore.

Hope you enjoy the (extremely belated) chapter. Now I need to go work on my Detective Conan stories. You might not believe it, but in comparison to those stories, this one has been updated fairly quickly.


	20. Part III Ch VII: Investigations and Frog

**Part III Chapter VII**

**Investigations and Frogs**

Heidegger was talking. The short, broad man stood in front of him but not even the high wooden desk could disguise the rumpled, uneven state of the green uniform. He'd been yanked out of bed too. Probably by the Turks. Or security. It happened a while ago, given the two or three empty coffee cups that'd missed the trash bin next to the desk. Heidegger wasn't much of a coffee guzzler, he took his time.

In the back of his mind Zack giggled, _And Seph says I don't pay attention to details._

Anything to keep his mind off the reason he was here. The reason his promotion had just been rammed through the system.

"Are you _listening_ to me Fair?"

"To be honest? No sir." He was momentarily pleased with the utterly flummoxed look that his superior gave him after that, before the weight of the situation came back. "I'm still puzzling through the fact that _General Sephiroth _is _missing."_

Oh look, he was mad. The Head of Public Safety sucked in a breath, nostrils flaring, and drew himself up to an impressive 5'1", "_Fair_, don't test me. I may have promoted you to deal with the _situation_, but I am still your superior!"

"And you told me to deal with the security breech." Zack reminded him, and indulged in a mental pat on the back when Heidegger flinched. That had been during the tirade he'd just admitted to not listening to. "I can't shore up holes in the guard patrols if I don't know which ones were taken advantage of. I need to know the whens, the wheres, and the hows, sir." Not to mention, if he could get his hands on that information he could piece together the whys, and then the 'where the heck is he now's. He'd been hoping for news of Sephiroth all _week_, though he'd have preferred to see the silver general himself. This wasn't exactly what he wanted.

He'd stumbled into the office, mind a whir with every little conclusion his thoughts had been snatching at with the news he was promoted. As second in command, there was only one position he could take. It was the one he didn't _want_ because that meant something had happened to Sephiroth.

They wouldn't even _tell_ him at first. Nothing more than a quick snap to get to his-_Seph's_ -office and get to work on the guard patrols, the Turks would be by later to get a report.

Zack hadn't even thought about it. He'd barricaded the door and _demanded_ to know where his superior was. He'd been dealing with this all week and he deserved to know _dammit._

And all he got was _he is missing!_

"Not to mention if there is something out there, able to incapacitate the _General_ I very well need to know about it, don't I?" Zack was doing his best to keep it professional. His version at least. He had half a mind to take a leaf out of Seph's book and start threatening that 'Heads Will Roll'.

…on second thought, it wouldn't have the same effect. Zack was a puppy to Seph's Doberman, and he _knew that._

A puppy with teeth larger than the man in front of him. He might not be able to match Seph in pure intimidation, but the Buster Sword was really helpful in getting his point across.

"Witness testimony states that the General was kidnapped." A cool voice came from behind Zack, and the SOLDIER glanced toward it. Tseng stood in the doorway, blue suit impeccable, the Wutaian Turk was eyeing the slab of metal wedged diagonally in the frame, "Would you consider…?"

Zack shrugged, grabbing the handle on his sword and yanking it out of the wood. He saw Heidegger eyeing the groove the blade left in the lacquered frame, pleased when the executive glanced imploringly at the Turk.

Tseng stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind him, cutting off Heidegger's hopes for escape. Zack stepped to the side to allow Tseng to approach the desk, but didn't put away his sword. Instead he hefted it onto his shoulder, letting the tip scratch the ceiling. Heidegger squirmed. Zack was starting to understand why Sephiroth enjoyed this so much.

"We've finished questioning the troopers who responded to the disturbance on the 66th floor," Tseng seemed to want to act like Zack wasn't there, making his report directly to Heidegger. Since he hadn't been chased out of the room Zack settled in to listen.

"A member of the custodial staff sent the alarm when the window on the floor above him was shattered, raining glass down on him and the scaffolding. The troopers who responded to the call reported seeing a man in a SOLDIER uniform land on the metal scaffolding before disappearing into a flash of green light." Tseng paused, frowned, "The magic detection equipment on the outside of the building determined it to be an Exit materia. We have measures set up to prevent such modes of travel within the building; shall I tell the Science Department to work on extending the field?"

"Yes, yes of course. Get on with it."

Tseng nodded, "The intruder was estimated to be between 4'11" and 5'3". The unconscious form of the general was thrown over one shoulder. Aside from the uniform, which was that of a SOLDIER 2nd based on the color, a reliable description was unable to be attained." Tseng looked the slightest bit annoyed at that. Zack rocked back on his heels, startled. He hadn't realized that Sephiroth had been _kidnapped_ for Planet's sake. And for someone a good foot shorter than the general carrying him…given the uniform Zack wasn't liking his conclusion.

"From the broken window, we back-tracked to the 68th floor and checked the security video." The Turk took a breath, "Sir, either the intruder returned and tampered with the security feed—and given the random aspect of an Exit materia that is unlikely—or we had a second breech. We could follow the gaps in the coverage up to the 68th floor, and then back down to the 66th, but the video was erased. _Completely_ erased."

Meaning even the Turks' encrypted back-ups were gone, and they couldn't do their tech-magic to bring it back. Even Zack couldn't hack those, and he had a weekly habit of playing in the computer system. It required specific passcodes and procedures to access those files, and no one save for the Turk Leaders ever learned _everything_.

"General Fair." Zack snapped to attention; that sounded so _wrong_. Couldn't they have made him a lieutenant general instead? Tseng's voice was calm, but those Wutaian black eyes were glittering, "It would require mako modifications of at least a Third Class to transport the general in such a manner. I would like to request that you look into the personnel lists. Any suspicious absences in the past few weeks, and the following should be reported immediately."

"Excluding the General's?" Zack muttered, he saw the Turk's lips twitch before speaking up, "Do you know how the General…" He had an idea as it was. 68th floor. The labs.

Another twitch, though this one was more of a frown than amusement. He was lucky he had experience in reading Sephiroth or this would be a lot more difficult, "Given the…intensity of the General's reflexes, he must be sedated when undergoing medical treatment. For the safety of the caregiver. There is no reason to screen suspects based on fighting ability."

"Understood." His stomach twisted. Sephiroth, not even during the Wutai War, had needed anything more than bandages or maybe a splint. He just healed too damn fast. Hell, he'd seen the man take a sword through the gut, break a few ribs, have one of them puncture a lung, and be able to walk about freely the next day. He'd been fully healed and battle ready in a week. No need for surgery. And surgery was really the _only_ thing a SOLIDER ever needed to be sedated for, since their bodies recognized the procedure as an attack.

He didn't doubt Sephiroth had been sedated. That would be the only way anyone would be able to transport the General without his consent. It was the reason that bothered Zack.

Sephiroth had been with Hojo. Hojo had Sephiroth sedated. Sephiroth had been MIA for a _week_ and the Company hadn't _cared._ Now they were freaking.

"If you get a better description from the…doctor," it took a great deal of willpower to refrain from using other terms, "could you give it to me?"

Tseng inclined his head, "Of course."

Zack nodded, snapping his Buster Sword back into its harness. He gave Heidegger a distracted salute—funny, he'd almost completely forgotten about the man—and turned on his heel and left the office. He could hear Heidegger's voice rise in complaint as soon as he was out, but he didn't care right now.

He needed to find Sephiroth. Then he had to deal with Grant—_Cloud is dead/not/dead/NOT THINKING ABOUT IT—_and then he was going to _do_ something about Hojo.

He didn't know what yet. But he was going to find out what the _doctor_ was doing with his—_general/superior/_friend—and make sure it didn't happen again.

He was starting to lose faith in ShinRa. If he didn't like what he found, after all this was over…well…

He'd burn that bridge when he came to it.

* * *

_Ow…Whatever that was, I don't want to do it again._

For once Cloud had been too tired to dream. There was nothing between his passing out and waking up again. Just the aches and pains of a body that knew that he'd pushed it too far, and it was going to make him pay for it.

_Ow, ow, ow._

He hissed as he moved, stones and twigs rolling and scraping against hyper sensitive skin. The sun felt warm, too warm. Hot, muggy. Gongaga's eternal summer—not for the first time, Cloud was glad he wasn't wearing black. Red was bad enough as it was. Or leather. Even _Sephiroth_ would roast.

_Sephiroth…_

Sephiroth hadn't budged an inch. He was in the exact position Cloud had left him in, on his back, arms at his side. Obviously whatever Hojo had used hadn't worn off yet.

Slowly, slowly Cloud shifted, moving about to study the comatose General. He didn't know what to do from here. He had planned on buying Sephiroth's cooperation with information about Lucrecia, and then convincing him to lay low for a while, as far from ShinRa as possible. Mideel maybe. Long enough to Cloud to figure something out about Jenova—he'd been toying with the idea of dropping her in the reactor again.

First things first, he supposed. Supplies, and then medical attention. The supplies were easy enough, Exit materia usually ended up near reactors or mako fountains, which meant the town was somewhere nearby. He didn't have much money but…Cloud lightly touched his bracer. The Exit was cool to the touch, unaffected by the sun's heat. Another green orb glittered next to it—Fire, he knew. It wasn't the most valuable materia, but it was near mastered, and he should be able to barter it for a new sword and some camping supplies.

He pulled up a mental map of the world, drawing on memories of tactics class. Gongaga was out, he doubted herbal medication and a Cure spell would help the General and that was all a ruined town like Gongaga had to offer. He needed a doctor who could interpret the medical chart that seemed to burn a hole in Cloud's uniform, shaking fingers plucking it out from purple fabric and smoothing the crumpled wrinkles.

It meant nothing; words on a page, swimming before him in patterns that made his head want to spin.

Focus. Objective, procedure. What did he need to do, and what resources did he have available? Ignore the sucking weakness that was the result of mako-exposure. Just because they'd gotten lucky last night didn't mean they were safe. This forest was _filled_ with monsters; eventually one was going to catch their scent. The sooner he had a plan—_and the sooner his hands _stopped_ shaking—_the sooner they could move.

What else was nearby? He tugged at the mental map. Corel. There was no way he'd make it across the desert in his condition, much less carrying unconscious dead weight. There were a few villages in the surrounding area, but those had the same drawbacks as Gongaga, but without the ShinRa-dislike that Gongaga fostered from the reactor explosion. He'd run the risk of some money-grubber turning him in for the reward ShinRa would certainly put out.

_Cosmo Canyon…_ That was certainly further away, and the rocky canyon could be just as bad as the desert at mid-day…

But they held no love for ShinRa—they were quite vocal of their contempt for the plundering of Mako Energy.

_Buganhagan was a scientist…_ Cloud replaced the medical chart with a small plain black notebook. Just the size to fit in his palm. He flicked it open, the well worn pages rustling.

_Buganhagan. Nanaki's Grandfather. Cosmo Canyon elder._ The entry was dated years ago, early into the dreams. _Studies the planet._

Not really a doctor, but Red XIII's grandfather was not the kind of man who would turn them into ShinRa, nor deny any help he could give. The scientific background would be at least a start. Perhaps the man would have a suggestion, even if he couldn't help.

It took some time before Cloud could stand without fearing his legs would give out, but he did it. Fighting tooth and nail with every ounce of stubborn will and mako-powered strength to lift the General off the ground and head in the direction of the nearest town. He could see the tip of the destroyed mako reactor from breaks in the trees, a beacon to the lost. Step by step.

* * *

There was something to be said about images. Project the image you belonged there, and no one would stop you. Project an air of indifference, and no one would come near.

The blue suit helped, but it was only part. Reno never quite managed to grasp the image, but then again, it wasn't his job too. Tseng was the leader. He _had_ to look the part. He was young. He was _Wutai_ in an era where his home country was nothing more than a tourist trap.

Oh yes, long ago Tseng learned to put his image to good use.

The nurse said nothing when Tseng slipped into the room. One SOLDIER on each side of the door, eyes slid right past without a word. He didn't need authorization. He knew that. They knew that.

"Please." That was all he said, not moving his eyes from the occupant of this room. This was a place of honor in the infirmary that boasted more security than would be given anyone else, except perhaps the president himself. He didn't need to elaborate; the nurse snapped her mouth shut and fled the room, the SOLDIERs following at a more sedate pace, though he knew they were just relocating to the other side of the door.

The wood swung shut, settling into place against the frame with a dull thud.

All the while a low chuckle continued to echo.

He moved toward the bed, suit immaculate, all clean, crisp and sharp lines. He meant business. "Professor. I am glad to see you are well."

The laughing paused, absorbed his statement, and then snorted, "Of course, of course. The president sends his regards. How delightful." Glasses were folded on the bed's night-stand, the professor still clad in the clothes he'd been brought in with. No real injuries, Tseng remembered, just a large knot on the head. Truthfully he should have been released by now. "What is it he wants now? The Promised Land?" Another giggle.

"We require any information you may have on your attacker, along with the projected duration of the S1-JX sedative."

"Attacker? There was no attacker. That was the solution!" He laughed again, supple hands curling into gnarled fists, "Can you hear her, Turk? Trumpeting her triumph to high heaven. No, of course not, for you are deaf. Blind, deaf, and dumb. All of you."

And that could be the reason right there. When the maintenance team managed to cut through the reinforced door they'd opened to find him laughing. Laughing and laughing and laughing. Even President ShinRa, to whom the Professor could do no wrong, felt it was unwise to release him.

Patience. This was why he came and not Reno. "If we could have that information, we could focus on the recovery of your project." Project. Specimen. Not General. Not Sephiroth. Not son, by blood or by position. Dehumanizing terms, but they were the language of the man before him.

"No need, no need. I _know _where he will go. _She_ calls—_Come home, my child. Come home!—_If only I'd _seen_. My lab is shielded. Too well—must prepare for everything, right? He couldn't hear her." A snicker, a hooked hand detaching from the sheets, gesturing wildly to the walls, "_No shield out there._ He sleeps. She sings. _He hears."_

"God will be born in the mountains—_Reunion_—_Nibelheim—_Such a _simple_ solution. The curse of _genius_, everything must be complicated. A god and the Ancient child…such a _wonderful_ experiment. One step closer, Turk. We are one step closer to the _Promised Land._"

Tseng frowned as he closed the door behind him; the man hadn't been too forthcoming after that, just smiled and laughed as if he knew such a wonderful secret the rest of the world didn't. Tseng was going to file a recommendation with the president—Professor Hojo had _jumped_ off the deep end.

It was likely to be ignored, of course. Two words would have the President eating out of the scientist's hands, and Hojo was still sane enough to know that. Not his problem. He hadn't gotten much out of that conversation; merely some abstract "Her" and Nibelhiem. He'd pass that off to General Fair as he'd promised.

There was one last thing bothering him.

_The Ancient Child…_

He knew his duty. Protect and watch. Guarding the Cetra was a beginner Turk duty. A way to learn the art of trailing and stalking safely, because if she caught you, you would only get a smile and a flower in return. Ruffians and low level monsters were well within a rookie-Turk's range—_Keep her intact. Observed. And when the time is right, retrieve her._

Tseng knew his orders. Orders that had been passed down when the previous leader retired. Orders he'd had to change, pulling back the observation distance when that dark-haired man came into the picture, because those red eyes missed little, and especially not the blue suit of a newly minted cadet.

He thought back to the file, long since buried in the ShinRa personnel system. Flagged once by the access of the General's office, and erased by Tseng's own hand. He thought back to the girl he'd once watched over. A girl who'd handed him a flower when he'd rescued her from a rabid Hell House and then invited him—blood-covered Turk suit and all—home for dinner.

He couldn't break his oaths. His country may be nothing more than a pale shadow of its former glory, and he may have abandoned that ship when he was young, swearing loyalty to those who fired upon her, but he was still one of Leviathan's children. He was nothing without his word.

When the order came, he would have to bring her in. He would have to surrender a girl he could have loved—in another time and place—to that man in there, who thought of human beings as instruments, pieces of clay he could squish and smash and then throw away. He'd seen the orders, already signed, that would transfer one of _his men_ to _Nibelhiem, _there was no lab anymore, but it wasn't so much a physical place as it was a warning. _Everyone _knew it, every person transferred there never came back. Not even a Leader was immune.

He thought back to the file. Back to the stranger with red eyes.

Except…perhaps one.

* * *

Glassy green rolled between weathered fingers, the faint spark of a gleam, shimmering radiance ready to burst free with just a few more uses. Cloud waited, watching, until the aged—but not old—man gave out a rumbling 'hmm' and set it back down on the counter.

"I can't take this lad."

Cloud winced. He knew what this looked like. A kid with no money, and desperate to fence an almost-mastered materia? Thief had probably been the first thing to run through the clerk's mind. Better thief than ShinRa, in this town. He'd heard horror stories from the SOLDIERs sent to help with the clean-up, years ago.

"I could send my boy out to roast some frog-legs and this little 'un would be ready to split." The man said wryly, "An' I don't have the funds to cover a mastered materia, much less th' child yeh'd be givin' me. Normally this would be a problem but…" He sighed again, "the snowmelt has th' river runnin' high. Th' merchants are long overdue. I just don't have enough in stock to cover the value." He looked apologetic—nah, downright pitying. Cloud knew he made a ragged picture—he'd done it on purpose; his 2nd Class Uniform would be too recognizable.

"Please sir," He wasn't going to shake damn it. He knew he was pale as a ghost, his bandages were skewed, and his burns were pretty darn obvious along the edges. He'd seen the guy take note upon his entering the hut. Seen the surprise. The pity. It was probably the only reason he hadn't been run out for being a thief—which he wasn't—yet.

He hadn't been thinking straight when he left. A single knife, bracer, and whatever materia he'd had equipped was all he had to his name. His belongings were probably in the process of being packed up, to be shipped out to next of kin—Mom—and his roommate had probably quietly taken Cloud's stash of gil as soon as he'd heard the news…

Most of his materia was mastered, and he doubted family-owned Gongaga shops would be willing to shell out 1.4 million gil for a mastered All. So he'd stashed Sephiroth out of sight, taken the least valuable materia he had—fire—and set about to bargain.

"I—sir…_Please._ All I want for it is a sword, a map if you have one, and any gil you can spare. My…" He considered trying to come up with a story, but decided to just stick with the basics, "I'm traveling and I lost my weapon in the forest."

It took a few moments, but the man slowly lowered his hand, scooping up the near-mastered Fire and turning to a nearby box filled with rolled up papers. Cloud sighed, relieved. He was going to do it. "Where're ya headed kid?" The clerk thumbed through the papers, pulling out individual ones and laying them on the counter.

"Cosmo Canyon."

"Ser? Planet, kid, you look like a strong wind would knock ya over. SOLDIER or not, that's not a journey I'd take on foot." He chuckled when Cloud tensed, "Ya can't hide that look in yer eye, kid. It'll give you away every time. Well, you could wear sunglasses, but people'd get suspicious if ya leave 'em on inside."

He shuffled a couple of the maps to the side, picking up others and re-stowing them, "Those're th' maps I got for th' area 'tween here and th' canyon. Pick th' one you like. Swords are along th' far wall." He continued searching the boxes, grumbling when he couldn't find what he wanted. Cloud had already selected a map and was browsing the sword collection when the shopkeeper headed up the spiral stair-case to the level above.

There was only one style of sword available, labeled as the Hardedge. Cloud studied one of the larger varieties, pulling it down from the wall and giving it a measuring swing. It wasn't the strongest weapon he'd worked with—it actually reminded him of the standard-equipment ShinRa gave to the new 3rd classes. His own blade was better quality, but unless he was going to take a leaf out of Tifa's book and take up martial arts, or pull an Aeris with the staves it was the only option he had.

Cloud discarded the initial blade he picked up—it was too light. Sure it felt fine now, but once he got over this weakness—and he _was_ going to get over it—it would probably snap under his strength. Most of the customers out here were just normal folks, and the goods reflected it. Normal gear just wasn't cut out for SOLDIER strength, which was why they usually had to get customized and specially made weapons. It took the largest sword the shop had—which was as large as he was—before Cloud felt it was durable enough.

"Yeh sure ya can move that thing?" He shot the shopkeeper a look and—with a little difficulty—hefted the heavy blade onto his shoulder, balancing it expertly, "Yea, yea, can't blame me for askin'. We don't get many SOLDIERs 'round here. 'specially not one as tiny as you are. Didn't know they let such young'uns into the army."

"…I'm 16…" Cloud muttered, and he wasn't even going to mention the years he'd lived in his dreams. This was taking long enough as it was. Cloud decided on the sword and grabbed the back harness that came with it, trudging over to the counter. He placed it next to his chosen map.

"Lessee…1500 for the blade, 100 for the map…" The man was muttering, "I've managed to scrounge up 10000 gil, but that leaves a deficit of…" He was scribbling out on a piece of paper, "30,400…"

Cloud started, he thought they'd worked this out already, "Sir, it's alright. Really."

"I'm not gonna be cheatin' you outta yer money kid. You'll be needin' every bit of it if ya want to get to the canyon by foot." He warned, and Cloud shut his mouth. Truthfully he hadn't thought much beyond arming himself, and he doubted he'd need a small fortune in gil when in the wild. "Food, supplies—seriously kid, them frogs'll transform you for /days/ at a time if you don't have a stock of Maiden's Kiss. And then those thrice-damned gorgon-dragons—they are downright _dangerous_ if yer travelin' by yerself. If it weren't for the regular trade-caravans there'd be hundreds upon hundreds of stone statues litterin' th' woods. It'd be one thing if you had a chocobo—" He paused, gave Cloud a considering look, "Yeh don't have one, righ'?"

He did, but Zero was back in Midgar. He hoped Vincent got to him before ShinRa did. He /knew/ where those birds went if no-one claimed them and he was fond of that feather-head.

Upon receiving no answer but a silent shake of the head, the shopkeeper sprinted upstairs with a quick, "Jus' a sec—"

It took a few moments for him to return, rolling a purple orb in those weathered fingers, "I'm gettin' a mite old to go ridin' and if ya catch a wild bird it'll cut yer journey time in half. I got it for 2000 gil, so I'll add that." He deposited the materia with the map and harness, where Cloud picked it up to inspect it. Chocobo Lure. It felt new, unused, and…"A child?"

"Yep. I did a lot o' traveling in my day. My boy has the parent materia—he dreams of bein' some hot-shot chocobo racer one day. 'e's finally managed a black bird last I heard."

"This was more than I was expecting." Cloud murmured, "I thought I was going to be run off." For being a thief, or later ShinRa. That'd been why he'd torn off the more identifying aspects of his uniform, the shoulder-guards, belts and even the red striped turtleneck, leaving the plain white undershirt. He'd rubbed the deep-brown Gongaga dirt into the scarlet fabric of his pants to disguise the color of the Second's uniform. Then he was given away by his eyes.

"True, ShinRa doesn't have a good rep around here. Especially not after the explosion…" The man sobered, "But yer just a kid. Ya probably hadn't even joined up when that happened. Most of us wouldn't hold that over ya." He finished writing whatever he was doing and tore the strip from the larger paper, "Here, show this to Ol' Jess at the general store and she'll fix ya up with some greens and any medicines yer likely to need. I'll go see if I can scrounge up some camping equipment—even with a chocobo it'll likely take ya two weeks ta get to the river, much less th' Canyon itself."

Cloud clung to the note, an IOU of sorts, stating the total amount of credit he had—28,100 gil—and signed by the shop owner. Aiden. His name was Aiden.

"I'll also adjust the harness for ya, it's a bit large at the moment—" Aiden paused, "What're ya still here for? Git yerself on over to the general store. I can't work if you hover."

"…Thank you sir."

* * *

Nibelhiem? Just Nibelhiem? Zack drummed his fingers against the desk with increasing agitation—just waiting for Sephiroth to order him to stop—Tseng dropped by while Zack'd been juggling the security reports, especially the 3rds stationed on the 66th floor and above, and gave him a transcript of his discussion with the…doctor. He could tell that some statements were edited out, but a question to Tseng had reassured him that they only contained classified, irrelevant information. He trusted Tseng to be honest when it dealt with work.

Nibelhiem. Nibelhiem. What was it in Nibelhiem? Vincent was from Nibelhiem. So was—_Cloud—_but this was Hojo they were talking about. What did Hojo have to do with Nibelhiem? Sure he went there often, but what was there? And what did it have to do with Sephiroth?

Nibelhiem…Nibelhiem…

Vincent…

Nibelhiem…

Zack spun the swivel-chair idly. It wasn't his friend he was thinking of, but something…something…

His eyes landed on the computer. He stopped twirling the chair.

-_"Ho…Turk Leader at age twenty-one?"—_

"guard a pair of scientists in Nibelhiem…" Zack dug through his memory for the rest of the report: retired Turk, same name as Vincent…

Maybe he should ask him, if nothing else came up. He couldn't go now, Heidegger would skin him if he didn't get the investigation done—why the hell had he been chosen to do this? There were plenty of SOLDIERs with more administration experience than him. The only reason he managed to stay as Sephiroth's 2IC was because he was the only one who didn't quit after a week.

_Briiing!_

He snatched up the phone, knocking a pile of papers off the desk and sending them flying. He bit off a curse—that was going to be a pain to sort out again—and ground out, "Lieutenant Fair."

"General." Hiedegger growled. Right, Zack guessed the pretend-it's-not-true-and-it'll-go-away option wasn't going to work this time. "Do you have those reports done yet! Every hour you waste is another hour our security is compromised!"

Zack rolled his eyes, "To be frank, sir, until the Turks figure out _how_ this person got into the building in the first place, and how the electronic security was tampered with, nothing I do it going to matter. So let me take my _time._"

The Head of Public Safety sputtered.

"Though if you'd like to help the /other/ investigation, I need some information."

If Valentine had been retired in Nibelhiem, which meant Heidegger knew about it. If he didn't, then he had records about it.

…Sephiroth would be turning twenty-five in a month…

Heidegger hadn't hung up yet.

"What does Hojo have to do with Nibelhiem?"

He heard breath catch—it _did_ mean something to him.

"That has nothing to do with the investigation!"

"When asked about the circumstances surrounding Sephiroth's abduction, the only concrete thing Tseng got out of him was _Nibelhiem_. Hojo was a frequent visitor to that town up until about ten years ago. _Now_ try and tell me it is irrelevant, sir."

Silence. But Zack hadn't heard the dial-tone yet, so it was looking up. Heidegger let out a gruff sigh and Zack gave himself a mental knuckle-knock in honor of his success. "Professor Gast was doing research on the reactor, which Hojo eventually took over. There is—was a lab in Nibelhiem, but it burned down in a freak lightning storm. Is that enough for you?" The majority of the statement was grumbled, reluctantly admitted, but the final question was snapped, irritated. Zack decided to cut his losses.

"Yep. Thank you, sir."

It was a start.

* * *

"Vincent?"

Aeris hadn't seen him all day, not since he'd left after their argument. She wasn't even certain he was he here now. She'd been by herself as she walked to the church, staff strapped to her back; within easy reach in case any of the less-respectable denizens decided to try their luck. They had—she'd noticed them approaching, leering at the sight of her absent red-shadow. Before Vincent the Turks had always been there, just out of sight. Everyone knew not to bother her, or they'd get a late night visit. As much as she disliked the method, she couldn't deny it made her feel safe.

The danger they could see, Vincent, must have replaced their fear of dark suits, because at the first sign of his absence here they came. She refused to reach for her staff, not wishing to believe ill of anyone. She'd give them the benefit of the doubt.

It wasn't until they'd begun to ring her, a good two or three men older than her, but not by much, that she'd begun to worry.

"Hey little lady, you're all alone today." The first started, in front of her, "Did you finally dump that vampire of yours?"

She didn't say anything beyond ducking her head with an "Excuse me" and tried to move around him, but one of his friends moved up to block his path, "Aw don't be like that. This is the first time we've gotten to talk with you. Stay a while. We could probably be better companions than that creepy boyfriend."

"I need to get to work. Flowers don't grow themselves." Or sell themselves, for that matter. It didn't seem to discourage the ring leader, because he just snickered. She started to reach for her staff—she hated the thought of hurting someone, but if they wouldn't leave her alone…

"We could escort you, couldn't we boys? It doesn't do to leave a pretty lady all on her own down here."

"Right! Who knows what kinda scoundrels prowl down here. Maybe a recruiter for the Honey Bee Inn! Or one of the Don's men."

"…she'd look cute in their uniforms…"

It was the third and final member that surprised them all, "No…I think we should leave her alone. She doesn't want company, right? Let the lady do as she wants."

"What are you talking about, Kir?"

Aeris turned her head to look at the lone voice of dissent, and noticed first that he was pale as a ghost, and was staring off behind her.

"I mean, we shouldn't try to force the lady right?"

The other two turned to follow his gaze and she watched with fascination how she could see the moment the color drained out of their faces. "Y-yeah. You're right Kir. Absolutely right."

She itched to turn around to see what they were so frightened of, though she had an idea. She didn't trust them to have her back to them though.

"So sorry for all the trouble, Ms. Flower." The leader gulped, backing away, "Do have a nice day."

And then they fled, leaving her alone on an empty street.

She turned around immediately, but there was no one there.

And now she was standing in her church, addressing someone who might not even be there, "Vincent?"

The red-black ghosted out of the shadows, head tilted to acknowledge her.

"…thank you…for earlier. I could have taken care of them, if I had to…but thank you."

"One perhaps. Maybe two." Vincent acknowledged, "But not three. Not alone. I must apologize—I hadn't realized my lack of presence would cause a drastic change."

She sighed. He was still upset with her. He'd retreated back into the role of a professional bodyguard, all politeness and duty.

"Vincent…"

"I will not be remiss in my duty again." The gunner slid into one of the pews, closer than when he'd first started accompanying her, but still barely halfway between the entrance and her flower patch. Far, very far given he used to sit right up front.

Mind made up, Aeris set down her basket and staff, marching up the aisle and sliding into the pew beside him, "We need to talk."

"There is nothing to discuss." Red eyes didn't slide away, veiled by a thin haze of mako-glow.

"At least listen to me Vincent. _Nothing_ I could have done would have kept him from leaving. He's had a reason ever since he came here; he'd just been waiting for the right time to do it."

He was silent, and she watched as he weighed her words. His face didn't change, but the eyes were sharp as he responded, "Do you know why?"

"Very little of it." She sighed, knowing he wasn't going to be satisfied with that, "I knew he was headed for ShinRa." He didn't seem surprised. She'd been right that he'd gone out searching last night, "Professor Hojo's lab in specific. And I know he'd been planning the raid for years, though I don't know what he was after. The…situation with the Turk must have pushed up his time-table." She couldn't mention the muffled conversation she'd over-heard with the Planet. Couldn't tell him that the timing was directly a result of the mako-exposure.

"Sephiroth."

Aeris paused upon hearing the name, "...What?"

"Tall, long silver hair. There is only one such person in the ShinRa databases," and she _wasn't_ going to ask how he got a hold of that information, "Sephiroth yes?"

"As far as I know. Zack works with him." And he sounded like the man she'd seen with Cloud in Gongaga last night. The man with the tainted life-stream, completely entwined with an alien chill that left her on edge just thinking about it.

"…I deleted the security footage. They should be safe for the moment." Vincent paused, "…do you…know where they are?"

"I—" No, she couldn't. Couldn't. "I gave him my Exit materia. They could be anywhere he's been before." Given he'd been sent all over the world between cadet training and SOLDIER missions…

_I want to tell you. I really do._ But her mother had been adament. Tell no-one. She'd never even told Elmyra, although she knew her adopted mother likely figured it out years ago when Tseng came to the door to try and convince her to return.

Vincent seemed to accept the answer, although she knew he knew it wasn't the whole truth.

Aeris smiled, relieved, she might be able to fix this.

* * *

Despite Cloud's best efforts, it was hours before he'd finished the shopping. The Item-Shopkeeper had cooed over his burns, especially once she extracted the fact they were cause by mako exposure, and tried to foist every curative she had onto him—including some unofficial herbal remedy they'd developed to treat health-problems from the reactor's fallout. He now had a backpack filled to the brim with potions, softs, the funny pink flower known as Maiden's Kiss, and anything else he might possibly need along the way. He was more than a bit overwhelmed by the attention—not even back at home was he ever treated like this.

Not that he was treated especially well in Nibelhiem. An outsider always, early on because he had no father, and later because of Vincent's presence. And once his Uncle went missing…

They never gave Vincent a partner again. They assigned him groups, but never a single partner.

He shook his head, now wasn't the time to be thinking about the past. At least it was his past, not the future-that-wasn't that kept running through his head during the break-in last night.

He paused in his trek, looking over the run down ruin of a house no-one bothered to rebuild after the explosion. It was far enough from town that it was left alone, but close enough that most monsters would leave it alone. As much as they liked to attack travelers, monsters usually avoided towns. Midgar was the only exception he knew of, and that place was screwed up in many ways.

The door was long since gone, and the roof had fallen in, but the structure was largely intact. Cloud shifted the backpack to his other shoulder, wincing as it shoved the hilt of his new sword into his back. He'd almost forgotten that was there. The weight was familiar—he hadn't realized how naked he'd felt without his weapon.

The back room was his destination, the only room with any part of the roof remaining. It was also set back enough that no hapless passersby would see a gleam of silver through the doorways and investigate. Sephiroth was just too damn recognizable. He was lucky the wilds between here and Cosmo Canyon were little traveled, especially if he decided to stay off the main road. The problem would be getting into the Canyon itself.

A faint sound came to his ears and Cloud paused mid-step. He peered into the dimly lit room—light shafting in from where the roof caved in, showing open sky. He'd set the General in a corner, out of direct sight.

"Rrrribit?"

Oh hell.

A wet slimy hand brushed against his pant-leg, followed by the world spinning and rushing up around him as everything suddenly grew to gigantic proportions. His item pack thudded to the floor, and Cloud could only hope none of the potions had broken. He had no idea where his weapon went and he didn't think about it much—he'd long ago learned that there were things that just shouldn't be explained.

'Damn it!' though, to his annoyance it came out as "Riiiiibit!"

The newly minted pale-yellow frog turned to glare at the cause of this mess, only to be face to face with a grinning green, native to Gongaga 'Touch Me' frog. Female, he guessed from the way it was eyeing him examiningly. A stray thought hit him—was that why they transformed things into frogs? To…to…

Ergh. That was going to be nightmare food tonight.

The frog gave a satisfied ribbit, sidling up closer to him. Cloud cracked webbed fingers. He may be a mako-poisoned frog, but he was _still_ stronger than these clowns.

A few well placed punches and the transformer was skittering out of the hut, leaving Cloud to hop over to his item pack and rummage through it, digging through, luckily, still intact potions bottles. As webbed fingers curled around the petal of a Maiden's Kiss—which from this angle actually looked like lips. Creepy—he paused, tilting his head to listen. There were more ribbits from the other room. More frogs. Reluctantly he left the status-cure where it was, hopping out of the heavy backpack and toward the doorway. Might as well take care of them now and not waste more than one flower. At least Sephiroth was immune to status effects; Gaea knows how much Wutai would have exploited it if he wasn't.

The next few moments were a blur of hopping green bodies, croaking battle-cries and flying three-fingered fists as Cloud cleared out the gaggle of frogs that seemed to have moved in during his absence. He'd been transformed back to normal and back more times than he could count, each time leaving him dazed and confused as the world suddenly changed perspective around him rapidly. He had a feeling the frogs _knew_ this; otherwise they wouldn't do it so damn _often_.

A final kick and they were scampering, Cloud had to chase a few away from his item pack where they'd stopped to snoop. Once he was sure they'd all gone he grimaced, stuffing the flower into his mouth, stem, petals and all. Status cures always tasted _awful_. It almost distracted him as the world grew small again and he could feel the weight of the sword on his back. The sudden change left his staggering, coming to a rest half-leaning against one of the frail walls. He _hated_ Frog. ShinRa only saw fit to outfit First with Ribbons, everyone else had to deal with status changes unless they managed to get a hold of Added Effect and Hades materia.

It took a couple moments to fix the mess he'd made of his pack and stow it again, pushing through the door to gather up his final bit of luggage—

Only to find the corner he'd leaned Sephiroth against _empty._ He hadn't noticed before, too focused on kicking froggy-behind and protecting his items. Everything looked so _weird _from six inches tall.

Maybe he'd woken up? While that was detrimental to his plans, Cloud couldn't help a bloom of hope at the thought. It was just wrong to have General Sephiroth comatose, and it'd been over 12 hours—his best guess—since the ShinRa raid. Most sedatives would have worn off long ago.

Then again, most sedatives weren't designed with Jenova and Mako in mind.

Something pale in the shadowed corner caught his eye and Cloud moved further into the room. His shoe came in contact with something thin and flimsy—cloth? He sank into a crouch, fingers curling into and lifting what used to be the pale grey of the hospital scrubs, but was now brown with dirt and dust. The hell?

He pulled up the material, staring at the small, silver on white form curled under the center of the empty scrubs.

But—but—Sephiroth was immune! They—AVALANCHE—tried status effects. Many times. Newspapers claim Wutai was fond of poisons and other similar Materia! It didn't make sense! He shouldn't have been affected by Frog, he wasn't—

Normal. The tiny curled form in front of him finally severed all ties with the madman in his dream. Flames and crazed laughing died away. That Sephiroth wasn't normal. Whether it was Jenova, or the plunge into the reactor that finally pushed past the limits of human being Cloud would never know. This Sephiroth was an enhanced human-like all the other SOLDIERs, like the Cloud in his dreams—but still human. He needed armor. Needed accessories. And needed status items. Every human was vulnerable to status spells without them.

Gently, Cloud lifted the limp amphibian, discarding the lab scrubs—civilian grade obviously. Hojo wouldn't waste quality battle-ready material on a lab subject—and carried Sephiroth out of the room, the frog nestled in the crook of his arm. He had gotten a set of clothes in the town—he'd figured the scrubs wouldn't last long.

That other Sephiroth was wrong. He wasn't a monster. Not yet. Not until he gave in to Jenova and threw away the humanity he had left.

If he was, then so was every other SOLDIER, and there were some damn good people in there.

* * *

Everything was just as he remembered it. Perhaps the garden was a bit larger, the house a little older, and the peaked roof of a wooden structure poked above the concealment of the garden's hedges, but he could ignore that. It was quite the illegal structure housing an illegal occupant, but Tseng didn't think more of it than a faint flash of amusement. He wasn't the police.

He could almost pretend he was a cadet again, sitting here on the fence watching the perimeter, wondering just what it was about the sunny five year old that required such careful observation. It wasn't until years later, as he rose in the ranks, that he was privy to her status, and value.

The Cetra were meant to lead us to the Promised Land, Tseng remembered what the leader before him said, That girl will change the world.

What exactly he'd meant, Tseng wasn't sure. However he'd seen Aeris for himself. Seen her kind smile, her willingness to open up to others. Seen her attempt the impossible and grow life in a dead city, and then share that miracle for a single gil, when imported flowers went for well over a hundred—for a single bloom—above the plate.

And something within him recoiled at the thought of what he would have to do some day. Protect her, he could do. Arrange to have her protected when he could not, he could do. He could even take her prisoner if he thought it would keep her safe. The only problem would be in whose care she would be left in.

Hojo…the man was a different matter. Once…perhaps. But not now. If he wasn't mad, he was closing in on it.

And he'd done too much research.

…Here came the subject of that research now. The light in the window he'd been watching switched off, and then the glass opened, glinting dully in the Slum's night setting before settling back into its frame. Tseng leaned back against the fence post, not bothering to hide himself, smoothing down his recon blacks. He'd forgone the suit today, this was an unofficial trip. No one knew of his presence save for Reno, and the red-head had been quite pleased to skip off to Wall Market to do Leviathian-knows-what.

When the leader told you to scram, you did, and if asked by _anyone_, you were there the whole time.

The dark shadow was at the edge of the roof, now he was off, cloth whipping out behind as he jumped from the edge of the porch's overhang and whirling round like a red cloud.

"I'm not here on business." Tseng was the first the break the silence, once Aeris' unconventional body-guard came within range—his range, since the records he'd found claimed the other's senses were far beyond human—the response wasn't verbal, a narrowing of mako-glowing eyes and the quirk of an eyebrow, but light glittered off golden metal as the clawed hand moved, settling over the concealed gun.

Tseng sucked in a breath, then slowly reached to his waist and tugged out the weapon hanging there, He lowered the standard issue gun to the ground in front of him, in full view of the other, and his concealed personal weapon soon followed. He hesitated a moment, he didn't want to place them in the dirt, his sais were his pride and joy.

"No need." The voice rumbled, snatching Tseng's attention before he could lower them. The red-cloaked gun-man was tugging his own weapon—a nasty looking triple-barreled gun—and placing it to the ground in the exact same fashion, a foot in front, in full view. "I'm afraid I can't fully disarm." The gold claw flashed.

"Fair enough." Tseng slid his sais back into their holders. And it was fair, they each had a short range weapon. As he was doing so, almost absently Tseng's hands flashed through a set of handsigns. He was pretty certain he knew the identity of the man in front of him, but there was only one way to be sure. He seemed to be familiar with the proper procedures of a temporary disarmament, but those could be overseen.

Almost hesitantly, black-gloved fingers formed the second half of the greeting, flashing through the signals. They were a little outdated, but they told Tseng exactly what he needed to know.

"…Valentine…" And this _was_ Vincent Valentine. The youngest leader in Turk history. The best marksman the company had _ever_ seen. When he was appointed, Tseng had read up on every leader before him. Valentine had stood out. Not merely for the previous reasons. Nor was it that he had an impeccable mission record.

He had the shortest tenure as Leader, of those who were _retired, _and not killed in action. Six years, a mere six years before the man was transferred to _Nibelhiem_.

He had been the first. But not the last.

"What is it you want, Tseng?" The Wutaian arched an eyebrow at the man's knowledge of his name before he dismissed it as unimportant.

"Nothing to do with Miss Aeris, I assure you." He felt his lips curl into a fond smile before he smoothed it away, "Nor is this on the record. However, I would appreciate your honesty."

He waited. Valentine tilted his head, motioning Tseng to continue. "I will answer. However, I have a question of my own."

"Fair enough." Tseng murmured, "As long as we both understand that not everything can be said."

"Agreed."

With that out of the way, Tseng started, "Were you the one to wipe our backups?"

"Yes." Not the slightest bit of hesitation. That set one of Tseng's worries to rest. He didn't have malfunctioning security protocols. Valentine was a Leader, and Leaders alone knew the method to modify data.

"Were you involved in the removal of a valuable project from professor Hojo's lab?"

"No." Though given the faint growl at the mere mention of the scientist, and what Tseng had learned during his research, he felt absolutely no remorse for the scientist.

"Do you know who was?"

"Yes." Tseng didn't even bother asking the next question. Valentine wouldn't answer it.

"Despite your vendetta against the Professor, do you plan on interfering with ShinRa's affairs?"

A pause. This made Tseng frown, if the answer was 'Yes' he'd be forced to act. Valentine knew this.

"Only if they involve myself or my charge." The answer finally came, and it was exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Perfect." He could read the confusion in the shift of the gunner's stance, "I had more than one reason for coming tonight. You are Aeris' guardian, correct?"

A nod.

"…She is a very special girl. I cannot do anything but…" He took a breath, taking a moment to pause. Was he really going to do this? It wasn't outright betrayal but…

Hojo's mad laughter rang through his mind, the caress in his voice as he mentioned _Ancient…_

"The Turks have standing orders. When the professor calls, we are to deliver Miss Aeris to him."

He saw Valentine's mako-bright eyes flare a might brighter, the only change to show he even heard the words. Tseng could only hope the other didn't take it as a threat, and heard what Tseng was trying to say.

_Don't let us take her. Make us fail._

_I can't protect her. You can._

And then the spark sank back into an ember, "Understood."

The two shared a comfortable silence before each reached down to collect their ranged weapons, sliding them into their holsters. Tseng paused, "What was it you wanted to know?"

"I do not much resemble my Turk profile." There was only the faintest change in his voice as he said that. "And Aeris has never used my full name within range of your watchers." _So how did you know?_

Ah. So he'd caught on that Tseng had suspected prior to getting confirmation. He considered how much he could say before deciding that it wouldn't really compromise anything. "We put flags on the profiles of those who 'disappear under mysterious circumstances' or are 'transferred to Nibelhiem' so we can quickly identify when someone is looking too closely. It is a practice that succeeds your time, so it is understandable you didn't know." He cast back into his memory, "Shortly after General Fair spent the night here, General Sephiroth's computer ran a search on your name." From there it was little effort to match up "Vincent Valentine" to Aeris' bodyguard "Vincent" and the circumstances surrounding his retirement had led Tseng into Hojo's research journals.

He didn't get much information on project Chaos, but what he did learn left him with more than enough respect for the man who went through all that and remained sane and some severe doubts on trusting the scientist with the Flower of the Slums.

"Zack knows?"

Now that was interesting. First name basis with Fair? He knew the newly minted General had long since developed the habit of visiting the Gainsborough household, but he'd assumed it was for Aeris, not her enigmatic bodyguard.

"No, I do not believe so. As you said, you do not resemble your profile." He chuckled, "Plus, you are remarkably well preserved for someone in your fifties." Without the knowledge Tseng had gained from the research notes, he probably wouldn't have believed it either.

Another incline of the head, "Thank you."

And then he was gone. Tseng couldn't even pinpoint the exact moment when the ex-turk had moved. It was humbling. And cheering.

Valentine could protect her.

Tseng slipped out of the gardens—taking a moment to lightly ruffle black feathers as he ghosted past, leaving behind a regretful croon—and for the first time since Hojo had mentioned Aeris, his oaths and his heart were at peace.

* * *

Everything was so warm. Not comforting warm, but fever warm. Sephiroth curled in on himself, wrapped in cool arms.

_Shh…shh…don't worry my child. I'm here._

He wished he could believe that voice, that he could believe it was more than just a fever-dream. It was the same one he'd been hearing for years, faintly, never more than a faint hum in the back of his mind during the worst of _his_ experiments.

_Mother will fix everything, son. Everything. That wretched little man believes he can chain you? Let mother take care of it, Sephiroth, my angel._

He curled further into the feel of arms around him. He didn't care if this was just a dream. The fever was fading, leaving nothing in his awareness save for her voice, her arms, her wonderful presence that made everything feel like it was going to be okay.

_Just sleep. Let mother fix it. The planet-touched pet of yours will keep you safe enough, while I purge the filthy man's legacy from you. Then you can come to me._

_We can be together, child. Forever. _

He'd like that.

**_Edit:_** A bit belated, but a note for anyone going to Otakon 2010: A friend of mine is putting on a fanfiction workshop-and I am helping. It is focusing on originality in fanfiction, if anyone is interested. As of yesterday, it'll be Saturday at 1pm-2:30pm.

A/N: IT'S OVER NINE THOUSAAAAND!

Okay, now that I've gotten that out of the way…Long chapter this time no? It's been in the works for…uh, maybe a month now. I realized while writing this that I might have made some mistakes in earlier chapters about floors/uniform colors and other things. I'm going to go back and try to find them and smooth out the errors. For the record, Seconds are RED, not purple. I am going by the original game, not Crisis Core, though I'm sure people have figured that out by now.

Just a note on the drug, and why Sephy isn't waking up. This won't fit in the narrative of this story, but this drug is a mixture of sedatives, manip and sleep materia. It is designed to keep Sephiroth down until the antidote is given, whether that is an hour later or weeks later. Hojo designed it like that because …well…if you were an evil scientist who valued your life…would you want a super-powered SOLDIER waking up in the middle of an invasive experiment and taking your head off? Because of the manip aspect, it also has the side affect of severely lowering mental defenses. Makes Jenova a happy camper. As they get closer to her, she'll be able to assert even more influence.

…Cloud really messed up, didn't he?

Oh yeah, a reviewer asked about pairings. I don't remember if I answered, but there will be no pairings. I'm just not good at writing romance. If you think you see something going on in between the lines, it's up to you.

…by the way, this part still has quite a few chapters to go, and nothing will really be "concluded" till the end. The other parts were more episodic, III is more of an entire story arc. If I get to IV, it would also be a story arc. The first two parts were more setting the scene and getting to this point.

Review please? :D I nearly burnt my brain out trying to get this good and long to make up for the wait.

(dedicated to hittocerebattosai. She's to blame for frog!Sephy. And I wanted to surprise her. Did it work?)


	21. Part III Ch VIII

**Part III Chapter VIII**

Cloud eased back on his makeshift reigns, the wild chocobo dancing impatiently but eventually following his instruction. It circled back around to sidle up beside a large grey lump, half hidden in the lush underbrush. He gathered the thick vines into one hand, loosening one of the knots that would transform the reigns into a lead line. He didn't think the chocobo would bolt, but it was better safe than sorry. The bird seemed content to remain as Cloud slid off, trying to peer back at the weight still leaning against its neck.

Cloud reached up a hand to steady Sephiroth even as he inspected the rock in front of him. Once the thick leafy tropical fronds were removed, he could easily see the familiar lines of a ShinRa trooper, stone grey instead of the usual blue uniform. Cloud sighed, his guess confirmed. He'd come across quite a few of these poor saps along the way. Those had been closer to the road, and he'd left them, remembering the shopkeeper's words of the caravans de-stoning any unlucky travelers they ran across.

These ones though—now that he looked, he could see the rest of the unit scattered among the threes. They must have run into a herd of the gorgon-dragons—were far off the beaten path. Cloud himself had left the road a couple days ago, having seen signs of recent traveling. Given his cargo, he wanted to avoid detection if at all possible.

He shot a glance over his shoulder, at the _still _out of it passenger. Sephiroth was beginning to worry him. It'd been a week since leaving Gongaga, and no change. SOLDIERs could go far longer without food, and Cloud had managed to get him to drink, but still. It was unnatural. Jenova's cells should have taken care of whatever Hojo used long ago. Not even normal drugs would keep a person down for this long.

At this point he was beginning to wonder if it would ever wear off, or if on arrival to the canyon they'd need to put the general on an IV. He wasn't even sure if Cosmo Canyon had the facilities to do so.

Putting that unpleasant thought out of his mind, Cloud picked out one of the mid-ranked troopers. High enough to be privy to the orders, but low enough to not be in charge. He led the chocobo in the opposite direction and tied the lead-line to a tree. "Stay." He told the bird firmly, getting a cocked head and a 'wark?' in response. It shifted in place but remained, craning it's neck and starting to preen the silver strands spilling from its passenger. Cloud guessed it was Sephiroth's weight keeping the bird from bolting. Most wild birds ran off the second they were dismounted. Regardless, they were out of sight of his chosen trooper. Cloud reached into his bag, fingers finding the feathery edges of his stash of Soft. He plucked out two of them, set them aside, and then dug even deeper for the scarlet of his SOLDIER uniform. He shrugged the jacket back on, snapped the shoulder guards and belts into place.

The picture of a Second Class on a mission, he grabbed the Softs and crossed the distance to the trooper. Crushing the feather in his fingers, he blew the resulting dust gently off his palm. It hung in the air for a moment, before settling gently on the contours of the statues stone face. The change was almost instantaneous, cracks appearing in a spiderweb pattern along the grey stone. Framents began to flake off to reveal pink skin, the only sign that the trooper was even alive. Eventually the stone coating was nothing more than a fine layer of dust, and the trooper shuddered, wobbled in place, and nearly toppled over. Cloud caught him before that happened, taking in the details the stone had smoothed over. This one was a little older than Cloud it looked like. The helmet immediately coming, landing with a thud on the foliage covered ground. The Ex-SOLDIER just waited while the trooper took in shuddering gulps of air, he'd had a similar reaction. SOLDIERs were required to go through Status training, so they were aware of the effects and how to counter them.

Being petrified was one of the most terrifying. You could lose so much time. As soon as the stone spread over the face, the timer reaching 'zero', there was a brief period where the victim was still awake and aware, unable to see, feel, or even hear anything. The same was true for when reversing the process—nothingness, and then suddenly the claustrophobic feeling of being trapped in darkness, suffocating in those seconds that feel like eons as the stone crumbled, letting in sweet, sweet air…

After giving the trooper significant time to collect himself, Cloud cleared his throat, causing an automatic snap to attention upon taking in the uniform and mako eyes. "What happened here?"

"What d-day is it, Sir…?"

Cloud raised an eyebrow, but understood the question. Time was nigh impossible to tell when petrified. He wasn't one hundred percent positive himself, but he had a way to find out. He dug through the pocket of his uniform, pulling out the emergency PHS. He'd kept it off to minimize the chance of the built in GPS giving him away, but a brief look shouldn't hurt.

He waited for the display to warm up, eyes automatically taking in the faint blink that meant unread messages. He'd deal with those later.

"It's the 20th of September." He could see the trooper slump in relief upon hearing that, "What's a squad doing out here, Private…?"

"Only a few days then…" At the question the head snapped up, curly brown hair bobbing, "Johanson. Private Karl Johanson. We were dispatched from the river-ford outpost four days ago. We're carrying important news to the other outposts along the route, sir. We ran afoul of a herd of Gigahandi and well…are the others alright?"

"They'll be fine once Softened. Two or Three days weathering never killed anyone." Cloud saw the trooper relax even more, but the mention of news bothered him… "What news?"

"You haven't heard! General Sephiroth was kidnapped. Word is being spread to be on the lookout for him." The private paused, and Cloud could see suspicion settling in. "What is your name? I need to know who to thank."

"Ryan Grey, Second Class." Cloud responded after a moment, deciding his old roommate was a good enough cover. Grey was also a fellow second, a rather forgettable fellow, and he had been deployed somewhere before the reactor mission. "I've been out of contact. Classified mission in the mountains. I'm finally on my way back to civilization. How the hell did someone kidnap Sephiroth?"

Suspicions allayed, Cloud made up an excuse about how he needed to report in and gave the trooper the remaining Soft so he could wake up the medic, and then went off on his way. He caught up to his chocobo soon enough, it'd settled in to a nap while he was gone. Cloud could hear the groggy voices from behind him and urged the chocobo to move. He wanted to get far enough away before the whole troop came to. Johanson was green enough he wouldn't question 'Classified', but the commander just might.

The grumpy chocobo warbled as Cloud re-tied the reigns, then he leaned Sephiroth back against his chest. The chocobo, happy to finally have the weight off its neck, seemed to be suddenly in a better mood. At least one of them was; Cloud was distinctly unhappy. The fact that the squad came from the river-crossing meant he couldn't afford to take that route. He'd have to find a place to ford the river further upstream then. It was a shame, he'd have to let the chocobo go and traverse the water by foot. Granted, he could catch another bird once on the other side but that sapped precious time.

Cloud steered the chocobo in the direction he knew the river was. His best bet would be to follow it, and just watch for a place shallow enough to ford. Once satisfied the bird was going the correct direction, Cloud shifted his attention back to the PHS. Unread mail. Who would be sending mail to the phone of a dead man? Perhaps it was Vincent, smoldering over the fact that he'd gone behind the ex-turk's back…

What else was he supposed to do? Sure Vincent probably would have helped him—it was almost guaranteed if he'd mentioned exactly who he was going to rescue, but in doing so he would have removed Aeris' best bid for protection. Cloud had no idea what the changes he'd made would do to Hojo's plans for Aeris, and for all he knew Vincent's presence could be the only reason the Turks hadn't snatched her up yet.

He flipped through the first mail. It was dated just after he'd left for that mission.

_Sorry about that buddy, I know how tough it is to work after playing pin cushion. How about I take you to get dinner when you finish? –Zack_

The next was from a different recipient:

_I had no choice._

It wasn't signed, and the number was unlisted, but Cloud had an idea about who it was from. Dated right after the botched mission.

_Zack knows. Vincent is furious. Stay safe._

That one was from Aeris' number.

_Damnit Cloud! First I have to deal with Sephiroth vanishing, now you too? Don't you dare get yourself killed. Mako poisoning is serious._

He knew that was Zack. But it was a different number than usual. Not his work phone.

The last message was from Aeris' number. But it wasn't Aeris.

_Security footage taken care of. I hope you know what you are doing._

'_I think I do, Vincent. I think I do.'_

He flipped the PHS shut after powering it down, grabbing up the makeshift reigns as the chocobo began to stray.

* * *

Singing. More singing. Zack groaned; the pillow over his head did nothing to block it out, though it was fading as he returned to the realm of the living. He didn't think he could take another night like that, waking up every hour or so. Every time he drifted close enough to deep sleep, that haunting lullaby would fade in and out at the edge of his conscience mind. It wasn't even a comforting song. He couldn't make out a word that was being said, but the mere melody alone sent shivers up his spine.

They weren't even the good kind of shivers. It was more like something had shoved icy cold claws deep into his chest and was running them along his soul. Lightly. But it was the type of lightly that made him certain that just a little more pressure and they'd leave deep, bloody gouges.

…Oh boy. No sleep wasn't good for his imagination. Get a hold of yourself. It's just stress. You can deal with stress, yeah? Zack let his hand fall on his face, blocking out the blinking red numbers of his clock. It was far too early. He had a habit of not going in to work until at least 11—he had a reputation to maintain after all, but he couldn't _sleep._ Laying here, listening to that damn creepy song as it drifted in and out of his head like a radio with poor reception was just going to drive him crazy. It'd already been going on for days—and he was sure his body was going to commit mutiny if he didn't find a way to stay asleep for a few hours.

Drugs. Maybe drugs would work. Zack hated the idea of having to drug himself into a stupor, but at this rate it was becoming really the only viable option. He pushed himself up, letting the useless pillow tumble to the floor. He groped for the clock, disabling the alarm and slipped out of the bed. First things first, clothes, and then drugs. Afterwards…he could always swing by the Turk offices on the way up to Seph—his office. He'd been meaning to track down Grant, but he just hadn't had the time. Zack had seen him in the hallway a few days ago, but that was only for a few seconds.

Sometime later had Zack leaving the apartment block; the cool morning air slapping him on the face and clearing away some of the fuzz around his brain. He was able to think a bit more clearly now, and probably didn't look hung-over anymore. It was an odd feeling, catching sight of himself in the mirror before he left. It'd been so long since he'd last experienced one of those…at least a year? Maybe two? That was how he met Vinny and Aeris, actually. Passing out and getting collected. Not that he actually was hung-over, but he sure looked like it before the air woke him up more.

The infirmary was deserted at this time of the morning; only the barest of the midnight shift seemed even coherent. The morning shift was just struggling in, steaming cups of coffee in hand. One came in with Zack, gave him a look behind fogged glasses and groaned. Zack cracked a smile when he heard the muttered, "It's too early for this."

He sauntered up to the check-in sheet and quirked an eyebrow when he saw two other names ahead of him. One was already scratched out, having come and gone. The other was another first class, Edward Jacobs, but everyone called him Ed. Nice enough guy, even if Zack didn't interact with him much outside of First Class thrown social events. He wondered what brought Ed in, in the wee hours of the morning.

He didn't have to wait long, a few minutes after adding his own mark to the page the rough first class was coming out of the clinic-room, a sheet of paper in one hand, a bottle of pills in the other. He was talking to the white-coated doctor along the way, until he noticed Zack sprawled across a couple of the plastic seats against the wall, "Hey! Zack!"

"Eddy! What brings you in this early?"

"Eh, nothing big. Just checking with the Doc. Too many late nights ya'know? Messin up my patterns. You?"

"I want drugs. It's getting to the point I'm contemplating knocking myself out to catch some Zs." Zack grinned when Ed chuckled, the taller man crossing the room and clapping him on the shoulder.

"Stress of the job wearing on ya? I wouldn't take that from you if you paid me, General."

"Oi, don't call me that."

Ed was one of the older SOLDIERS, and had already been well ensconced in the SOLDIER program before Zack came along. Thus Ed tended to be parental to anyone under him. Except Sephiroth. Zack was of the personal opinion that he'd tried once, and Seph snapped at him. Probably with his sword. That was before Zack came along and thawed the ice-cube, of course.

"Yeah sure. Just get Sephiroth back soon so everything can go back to normal. All the spooks hanging around in blue make it difficult to sleep at night." Ed ruffled Zack's black spikes once more before waving at the Doc and heading out. Zack felt a bit better about everything, good natured banter always lifted his spirits. He hadn't had much of a chance for it recently, being required to run here and there whenever the Turks found something. And when he wasn't he tended to be locked up in the office. He was really contemplating saying 'Hell with it' and skipping down under the plate for a while later. Tseng could deal without him for a few hours.

Zack watched Ed go before he turned back to the doc, who was checking the clipboard briefly, scratching out Ed's name. The doc glanced up at Zack through thin glasses, "I take it you want sleeping pills?"

"Yeah."

The doctor sighed, muttering something about how "it must be the water." Zack quirked and eyebrow as the doctor motioned him toward the clinic room, "Right this way."

* * *

Drugs tucked securely into his uniform, Zack felt a mixture of relief and apprehension. On the one hand, he was thrilled to finally have a chance to catch some sleep. On the other, he absolutely hated the thought of needing to depend on drugs.

Geh. Zack shook his head, thoughts rattling around like material in a tin can. If he needed to make concessions in order to function, so be it. It was better than finding his Sleep material and casting it on himself at least. At least drugs wore off after a few hours. The spell lasted until you got either got hit, or had someone cast Esuna. Not the most pleasant thing in the world.

Putting his night-issues out of his mind for the moment, Zack scratched his head and took a moment to gather his bearings. He didn't often search out the Turks—most SOLDIERs were reluctant to deal with the spooks unless completely necessary. He personally considered himself at least a friendly acquaintance when it came to Tseng, and even Reno, having convinced the latter to go out for drinks a couple times, but that was always off the clock. A phone call was usually enough to find out if either one was feeling social.

Aaah. What was he on now, the 45th floor? He glanced around, taking in the clean, rather utilitarian style. There was a reception desk right in front of the elevator, with a navy-blue suited secretary tapping away at the computer in front of her, absently chewing on something. One stretchy pink bubble and a pop later revealed it to be gum. The suit was a positive, but it was a shade off from the Turk's normal uniform, and the cut was different. While female Terks had a more feminine suit-style than the males (not that he'd seen many) this one right here seemed to be putting off a more fashion-conscious vibe.

He eyed the secretary, debating whether to ask her or not before shrugging and stepping off the elevator. If this was the wrong place he could always get her to pull up the building's floor plan on her computer. It would only take a second, and it wasn't like the secretaries had all THAT much to do. They couldn't, not with the way Sherry on the 49th floor liked to flirt with him when he'd been required to deliver something to Heidegger. Sure, take a few calls, juggle a few schedules, and surf the network, giggling at the updates to the local gossip blog…how hard could it be?

"Hey!" Zack caught the woman's attention with a shout and a wave. She paused in mid type, gave him a look through her thin glasses and popped the bubble she was in the midst of blowing. Using her index finger to push her glasses up on her nose she gave him her full attention.

She seemed to tense as he pulled closer. Probably just recognizing the uniform, and piecing it together with the mako eyes. SOLDIERs didn't stray from their compound unless they were assigned to guard duty on the upper floors, so it was understandable that the unenhanced members of the company were nervous to see one. It was kinda weird though, those in the Department of Public safety should be used to seeing SOLIDERs every once in a while. Zack smiled sheepishly putting one hand on the desk edge and using the other to scratch absently at his black spikes, trying to give off anything but 'dangerous predator'. She didn't relax, but he could see the lines in her face soften minutely. "May I help you?"

"Yeah. Is this the Investigative Division of General Affairs Department? I forgot to check the directory."

"No sir. This is the Department of Urban Development. The 34th floor." Her lips twitched minutely, "Public Safety begins on the 44th."

"Aw crap. Really?" Zack smacked his forehead in irritation. He'd thought it was the 45th. It's not like the big honkin red letters over the doorway would have told him one way or another. In order to salvage his pride, he inwardly rationalized that there was a 4 in both numbers, and that he was _tired damnit._ This being Urban Planning would explain why she was so nervous. There was pretty much no reason for a SOLDIER to come here. Weapons Development or Public Safety? Yeah there were a couple SOLDIERs around. Science Department? Duh, SOLDIER 3rds held guard shifts from there on up. Her reaction should have clued him in. "Could ya please look up the floor number for me? I'm not exactly which floor the Tur—Investi—_damnit_—" That name was too fricken' long. And they weren't supposed to use the 'Turks' officially.

"Use Department of Administrative Research. It's shorter." The secretary responded wryly, having pulled up the building directory. She seemed to have relaxed some more, he could even see some amusement at his little predicament. "Everyone is lobbying to get them to change the title, it's ridiculous. We clerical staff submitted a petition a few weeks back, given _we_ have to type it."

"Ah. Thanks." Zack responded, unsure how to react to the gossip he was suddenly subject to. Well, if it made her feel more comfortable around him, so be it, "So which floor is it, exactly? I kinda don't want to have to check every one between 44 and 54. That'd be sorta embarrassing."

Especially once he got to the bundle of floors frequented by SOLDIERs, and those who would know of his rank. The General, not knowing which floor everything was on? For shame. It didn't matter that he'd been a mere lieutenant prior to that. People called him 2IC but he personally considered himself Sephiroth's assistant more than any sort of authority figure.

"Upper level agents have offices on the 48th, lower levels on the 47th. It depends on who you are looking for, sir."

"Right. Thanks, uh…"

"Angela."

"Angela. Th' name's Zack. You've been a great help."

He smiled widely at her before giving her a wave and heading back to the elevator. After stepping inside he started to fish out his keycard before he realized he didn't need it. Security didn't start stepping up until the 59th. With a sigh he turned around and pressed the button for 47th—Grant was still a newer recruit. He could see Angela through the closing doors and noticed she'd turned back to her computer, in the process of blowing another bubble.

Huh. She hadn't done that once in their conversation.

Foot tapping impatiently, Zack stared up at the red numbers over the doorway. On the way up—the Infirmary was on the 5th floor—he'd just hit the button and turned to stare out the glass enclosure. The lightening sky was more interesting to watch, but he'd barely glanced at the numbers once the elevator stopped. Details. Details. Pay attention to details, Fair.

Once the doors slid open this time, Zack was _sure_ he'd gotten off on the right floor. 47th. The departments weren't labeled outside of the oh-so-secure company network. Zack figured it was to torture employees more than anything else. Official policy was that it was in order to thwart cooperate espionage—or even outright invasion—but that only worked if the invader didn't know what they were doing.

Obviously the guy who kid—_took_ Sephiroth from the Science Department had known what he was doing and where he was going. Then again, if the culprit was _indeed_ one of his SOLDIERs, he could have just asked, exactly the way Zack had just done. Everyone knew only SOLDIERs had mako-eyes. Well, except for Vinny.

He knew that Tseng's reasoning was sound for suspecting a SOLDIER, but Zack didn't want to believe anyone in the organization would harm their boss. Sure, there were some people who didn't like Sephiroth. There were even some that hated him; but everyone respected him.

And most of them probably wouldn't have known Sephiroth had been in the Science Department in the first place. Zack had suspected, due to the timing of the initial disappearance, but he was the only one Sephiroth had trusted with his hospital visits.

Still, he'd done what Tseng had asked and drawn up a list of deployed SOLDIERs. There were plenty that'd requested leave or were currently absent from the city for one reason or another. He'd almost put Cloud down as well before he caught himself. A Turk had been ordered to kill him—Cloud wouldn't be stupid enough to head back into danger. He'd probably slipped out of the city first chance he got, to keep Vinny and Aeris out of it all. It was what he would have done. Clear the city and head for some out of the way place. Maybe Rocket Town, or Mideel. 'sides, Cloud wouldn't hurt the General. The teenager had always been cool around Sephiroth, and Sephiroth had given some of his rare praises to the blonde. They got along well enough, even if they didn't interact much once Cloud had passed his examinations and become a full time SOLDIER.

Cloud was the reason Zack wanted to see Grant, so it was only natural the blonde would occupy his thoughts. He knew it would be stupid to directly confront the Turk in the heart of ShinRa spook central, but he wanted to set-up a meeting. Maybe go for lunch or something later. His mind still recoiled against the idea that Grant was _ordered_ to do Cloud in, but after he'd gotten a chance to think about it, he was kinda _proud_ that Grant had found a way around it. Sure the methods weren't the safest, and if it weren't for a miracle Cloud could have ended up with severe mako poisoning.

Still, Grant had defied his orders to help a squad-mate. It made Zack happy. He could only hope the rest of his squad were just as true to their friends and comrades.

"Can I help you?"

He was shaken out of his thoughts by the female voice, not missing a beat as he took in the cool gaze sizing him up over the desk. She wasn't a full blown Turk, if the uniform was any evidence, but a Turk-hopeful? It was possible. There were internships, and there was no way the paranoid spooks would let someone unrelated work on their floors without a bajillion non-disclosure contract froms. "Oh, yeah. I'm looking for Grant. Herne Grant."

"Appointment?"

He stared blankly at her, which she just returned, "I don't have one. I'm—"

"General Zackary Fair. SOLDIER 1st class. I know. Still, I am not allowed to let you into the offices without an official reason."

"Oh! I have a reason!" He was just making this up as he went. It was worth a shot at least. "I wanted to ask his opinion regarding an investigation I'm working on. I wanted to run the results by him before I submitted them to Tseng. Quality check, you know?"

She gave him a searching look, during which Zack tried to look as innocent as possible. He was sure it failed.

"Fine. I'll see if he's free." Just as Zack was about to do a victory dance, she added, "And remember, I'm only doing this because you are the General. Next time CALL and make an official request."

Bah, stupid Turks. Why should he have to make an appointment anyway? They could—and did—pop into his office quite unannounced. Most of those appearances were just dumping more work on top of whatever he had to do, as well. So it was far more disruptive than he was being. Only the Turks could be unpredictable huh? Cause they probably felt they had to control everything, given their work.

Typing stopped and he focused on the intern. She turned in her chair to meet his gaze—huh, most non-SOLDIERs avoided looking at the mako. "I'm sorry but Herne Grant was deployed yesterday on a long-term mission involving ShinRa interests in the Nibelhiem area. You can't meet with him unless you can catch up with an airship that is half-way over the Central Sea."

The last statement was quite obviously sarcastic. Zack nearly twitched at the mention of Nibelhiem. That town was popping up all over the place. He really needed to grill Vincent on the area's significance. He'd tried to prod Heidegger some more, but the Executive had his mouth firmly shut.

"Is there anyone else you'd like to see instead, General?"

"No. It's fine. Not much to do about it." Zack waved his hand dismissively, "Do you have his number so I can leave him a message?"

"He is flagged as being out of contact for long periods of time. The Nibelhiem area in general has a distinctly unreliable signal coverage. Besides, we have a policy about not disclosing our agents contact information."

Now she was just being unhelpful. She was being far more talkative about things that didn't really matter, and then shutting down about those that did. Was she really that annoyed about his unannounced arrival? Or was she just one of _those_ ones. A good number of the Turks looked down on SOLDIERs as "mako-addicted muscle-bound barbarians." Zack would know, he'd run into one at a bar once, back when he was a green 3rd. He'd managed to dodge the follow-up blow when he'd taken offence to the comment, but the drunk Turk had just spun and then collapsed on the floor, to be gathered up by his slightly more sober comrades. Zack watched in confusion amid the dirty looks before one of the older SOLDIERs had explained things.

"—if you would like, you can submit a request for the information. It would take 5-8 days to get approved, but then I could release the number—"

"It's FINE." Frustrated, Zack wanted to rub his temple, but didn't want to show the sign of his waning temper to the instigator before him. "I'll just get it from Tseng. Later."

"Have a good day!" was singsonged after him as Zack stomped—made his way toward the elevator. He just wanted to get back to the SOLDIER compound where things made sense. And forget Heidegger, he was nipping out of work early tonight. 'sides, he wanted to talk to Vinny about Nibelhiem, so it technically counted as work, right?

* * *

The lights would be dimming soon. He was both looking forward to it, and dreading it. The dimming of the lights meant the day would be done. Dreading it, because that meant that he couldn't see as well, which meant he would have to be more alert.

His 'well' and a normal person's well was far different, a fact that did little to comfort him.

Vincent shifted, the faint sound of cloth scraping across roofing tiles the only indication. He brought his leg around, angling himself so that he could see both the gate—the obvious path up to the house—and the recently discovered entry. He'd found it after Tseng had used it, going up and over the garden and hedges to get around to the house.

Tseng. Turk Leader. What did the Turks _want_? With Aeris no less? She was one of the kindest persons he'd ever met, a decent fighter, and had a remarkable way with plants but that wasn't anything Hojo would be interested in.

The window creaked behind him; squeaks easily audible as the glass-in-wooden-frame was pushed open behind him. He caught the smell of fish frying, the night's dinner wafting from the house into the mako-smell laced air of the slums.

"Mou, you really need to stop skulking out here. What'll the neighbors think?" Aeris leaned out of the frame, the outside wind tugging at slightly curled bangs. Vincent could see her out of his peripheral vision and considered not reacting—it would be a remiss in his guard duties to look away—but decided he didn't need her climbing out on the loose roofing tiles. It wasn't that the house was poorly maintained, it was just—old. He gave her his attention; certain she would pick up on the unasked question.

"I just want to know what's up. You've either been on the roof or stalking me since—Well—Tseng visited."

How did she know that?

"You passed my window. I'm not _blind_ silly."

At that Vincent merely inclined his head. Her light had been on. He considered; she knew the Turk leader's name. There was a history there. "How did you two become acquainted?"

"Oh, it was a long time ago. I've—Well—Back then—I just felt like I needed to get away a lot. Away from Mom, because she was still here while my Mother wasn't…" Aeris paused, apparently picking up on his silent confusion. She was rather good at that. She tilted her head, leaning it against her palm, "I don't think I've mentioned it before, have I? My Mother, Ilfalna died when I was…I think Mom said it was six? Seven? I—I don't like to remember much."

"Mom says I was a bit of a brat back then, always running off. I ended up finding the church—it felt like Mother, I guess. And I liked it there. Mom was worried about me walking in the slums alone, but when she forbid me from going anywhere, I just ran off anyway…" Aeris was turning the faintest bit pink, a blush staining her nose and cheeks. Vincent watched in amusement as it darkened. She was embarrassed? Of course he had difficulty imagining the Aeris he knew disobeying her mother and just being a brat. He briefly wondered what it was that caused her to change before he focused on her story again.

"One day I was walking back from the church—I'd managed to get my first batch of flowers to bloom, I was so happy!—and Tseng ended up saving me from some trouble. I invited him home to dinner, though Mom took one look at his suit and turned pale as a ghost and kicked him out right there. He'd come by the church and watch over me after that, and when he wasn't one of the other Turks was there. They hung around until you began to live with us. I found a letter on my desk asking if I trusted you. I responded yes, and they just kind of disappeared after that."

That long? They'd been watching her for that long? Tseng had told him as much of course, but all the Turk had said was that Aeris was _special_. Since then, every time Vincent had gone out with Aeris he'd watched her. _What_ was special? Did she know? She'd been so calm when talking about someone her mother had kicked out without prejudice, and seemed almost—fond?—when she spoke of the Turk.

"They are still there." Vincent's eyes left her face, narrowing in on the visible top of the next building over. Once he started looking he'd caught blue up there nearly all the time. Since Tseng none had tried to approach the house but…

He'd wondered; back when he first got here, why this girl asked him to be a bodyguard. In the end he'd put it down to a convenient excuse, a favor to her pen-pal, Cloud, that later turned into a legitimate role when he realized how much the slums had decayed. Back when he was stationed in Midgar the Slums were poorer than the Plate, yes, but an establishment like the Honey Bee Inn would have never been suffered. Back then ShinRa Electric Company hadn't been so entrenched in society and they people had options. The battle between mako and coal had been a hard fought one, and ShinRa needed public opinion to win it. Which they had.

He'd done some research since his awakening, and most of the coal mines had been shut down over the past decade leaving the people with no one left to turn to. The last functioning mine was located at the Base of Mt. Corel, but the newspaper he'd found claimed ShinRa was building a reactor there now. It wouldn't be too long before they shut that one down too.

Vincent kept his eyes pinned on the suit he could just barely see, twitching ever so slightly when he saw the red-head—the bright red above the blob of blue was either hair or a hat, and given uniform policy looked down on head-gear…—raised an arm and waved at him. "Do you know _why?"_

The silence was pretty telling, in and of itself.

The floor boards creaked, and Vincent was aware of her pulling away from the window.

"Aeris." The sounds stopped, her breathing coming slightly shallower, but she was listening, "The Turks don't normally stalk teenager girls."

"…my father. M-mother told me he'd been the head scientist. But he quit and…"

"…enough. My apologies."

Quit. Scientists didn't just quit. They retired under ShinRa's thumb or…were dealt with. Too many secrets locked up in their heads.

Head scientist. Vincent added up the years…and then twitched. He didn't quite whirl around, but he did take his eyes off Mr. Red-head to study Aeris. She was staring out the window, eyes distant. The spark of cheerfulness was missing. But she was strong, and Vincent watched as she shook it off, noting the change in her demeanor as she worked through old memories and feelings. She focused on him again, bright and cheery, but that moment of distance was enough for memories to slide into place. That face, those eyes with the faint hint of a wutaian tilt.

Gast. He hadn't been looking. Why would he? Why would he think of Gast? The Science Department head of the time, whose sudden departure for Midgar had left Hojo in charge of Sephiroth's project. Hojo hadn't begun the invasive, human experiments until then, because Gast was in charge, and Gast had this silly idea about human experimentation…

He had no proof. Nor an answer for Aeris when she asked him why he was staring at her. Maybe he was just seeing ghosts. He saw Lucrecia in Sephiroth—but he _was _her child. That name, _how could he forget the name?_—and now Gast in Aeris. She'd said head scientist, and the timing would fit. It would even explain the interest. Hojo had loathed Professor Gast.

But no, he wouldn't assume.

"I'm starting to get worried. Why are you staring?"

"…nothing." He turned away.

"Viiiiincent." There was that tone, the one she got before she turned on _The Look_. The look that showed that she was extremely disappointed, and that was very effective at making just about everyone guilty. Her mother was the only one immune.

He kept from looking at her, pointedly watching the path to the house. It was perfect timing too, because his sudden attention caught the figure walking up the walk, hands in his pockets and a huge buster sword on his back.

"_Heeeeeey! Vinny! What're you doin up there? I almost thought Aeris had brought home one of the gargoyles from the church!"_

Zack's greeting easily traveled up to the porch roof. It was sufficient distraction for Aeris, who heard the voice, leaned dangerously out of her window to see before bolting back inside. Vincent could hear her down the stairs, calling to her mom that Zack was here and "do we have enough food?"

Vincent felt strangely relieved as he slid to the edge of the roof and dropped down. He owed Zack for that one.

Besides, he hadn't seen the SOLDIER in nearly a month. Not since…

"You're late." He ended up saying, eyeing the SOLDIER. No 'it's been a while's or 'good to see you's. This was Zack. "Dinner's almost done."

"Hey! I'm rather important now. Got a lotta work to do." Zack responded rather indignantly, puffing himself up in order to seem more imposing. Supposedly. Vincent just stared, waiting for it…

Then Zack deflated, looking longingly toward the lit windows, "Dinner?"

Predictable. Vincent snorted, turning and waving the SOLDIER to follow. "Come in."

A/N: Well…that wasn't so long a wait, was it? _*ducks possible projectiles*_

There was more to this chapter, but I felt this was a nice ending point so it's been relegated to the next. Sorry for Zack kinda taking over…he's being the loudest of the three currently conscious characters. And really the only one who has much going on right now. Cloud 'n Seph are on the way to Cosmo Canyon, but they have to get there before anything can really happen. Vinny's pretty much stalking Aeris and keeping an eye on the Turks. Anywho, I hope Zack's okay. He's actually rather easy to write at the moment.

Didja know? With this chapter this story is officially over 100,000 words. I'm exceedingly proud of how this story has gone. Not that it's perfect—it's far from it, and I WILL rewrite the beginning chapters at some point—but I'd never expected for it to have gotten this far to be honest. I am horribly apt to start and then later drop things, so my (relative) consistency with this story has been surprising. Granted, I highly doubt a certain friend of mine would allow me to even if I tried.

Right, um, hope you enjoyed the chapter, and haven't given up on me yet. This'll get done, if only to say I've finished a long-fic. My only other completed things were dinky little oneshots.

Leave a review to let me know what you think, or if you spotted any errors/inconsistencies or even just anything you have questions about.

Title to be added when I think of it. And there isn't a hockey game on. _*distracted*_


	22. Part III Ch IX: Dreamless

**Part III Chapter IX**

Dreamless

During the last few years, most of his dreams had been nightmares. His hometown burning. Tifa bleeding out on the reactor floor. Aeris slumped over dead, impaled on Masamune. Terrifying flashes of Zack handing him the Buster Sword, and then those eyes closing forever.

Those scenes recycled through his subconscious often enough that Cloud could probably recreate them from memory alone, as if they were being etched into his mind. Luckily for his sanity, sandwiched in between were some that weren't so bad. These were the ones he'd started writing in his journal for, because the details didn't stick with him with the immediacy the nightmares did.

Cosmo Canyon was one of these, and although this time he arrived on Chocobo back instead of crammed inside a noisy red buggy, he was hit was a wave of dejavu upon seeing the sunset colored walls of stone, soaring out on the edge of a plateau. Lights burned in the windows carved into the stone, the cheerful colors heralding the onset of night. The sun had mostly faded from the sky, and the first shy stars were twinkling into existence as he watched.

There was a gate house, with a guard who came out just as he remembered. In the light from the torches the man's features were indistinguishable with that sentry. Only this time there was no Red XIII to banish the aura of suspicion. He drew up alongside the chocobo, raising the torch to let the firelight play across the figures of the strangers. Cloud saw the man's features harden, most likely at the gleam in Cloud's eyes. He'd kept them downcast, but at that range it'd be impossible to miss. He'd long since abandoned his SOLDIER uniform, the pants so dirty they appeared more brown than crimson and his no-longer-white shirt in a similar state of disgrace. His haggard appearance was probably the only thing that kept the sentry from turning him away on principle.

"What's your business with the Canyon?"

Cloud sighed, shifting to ease the ache from constant riding. The sentry was now inspecting his passenger, who Cloud had kept cradled in his arms for hours on end. The cloak seemed to be doing its work in concealing Sephiroth's eye-catching features, not a glimmer of silver to be found. "Rest. My friend is sick, and we've been on the road for days. I can pay." He still had the gil the armorer had pressed on him in Gongaga—all of the supplies he'd had to buy were purchased on the remaining credit.

"S'pose we have a room or two, and your money's good—you don't bring any trouble do you? We don't want any problems with ShinRa."

Cloud shook his head, too exhausted to give either reasons or assurance to relieve the guard's concerns. He didn't want to lie. "One's fine."

The sentry took another moment before taking the bird by its makeshift reins, leading the chocobo to the gatehouse. Cloud just kept a firm grip on the neck feathers, feeling the other SOLDIER shifting with the motion of the bird. Not quite deadweight in his arms, a familiar one.

Cloud almost started to doze as the chocobo climbed the steep, shadowed road toward the canyon proper. The bird was unsteady, carefully taking one ginger step after another, ruffled to be outside the jungles that had been its home. Under the experienced hand of the sentry it made it eventually, and Cloud snapped to attention to find the warm glow of light shining out of the inn door spilling across them. The sentry was passing over the chocobo's reigns to a stable-boy, and had turned to observe the blond again, "I'll help you with your friend. The rooms are up a flight of stairs."

The idea of losing that familiar weight felt so foreign to Cloud. He tightened his grip on his passenger, before relaxing. "No. I'm fine." He may be exhausted. He may be running on the dregs of sleep deprivation, pushing the limit of a SOLDIER—but he WAS still a SOLDIER.

He ignored the guard's mixed expression as he managed to maneuver Sephiroth off the bird and up the stairs, paying the gaping innkeeper, and collapsing into the bed. Somewhere in there he thought he asked after Bugenhagen, but sleep took him and he didn't remember anything else.

-.-

In the end he didn't have to try very hard to find the Elder of Cosmo Canyon. Cloud woke with a start to a knock on his door and a cheery "Morning!" moments before there was a creak of old, but oiled hinges and the scrape of wood as the door left it's frame. He found himself reaching for his weapon before he realized it, and it was only the fact that he knew that voice that kept him from leaping for it.

Bugenhagen was still recognizable, with his dark thick glasses, and fins of hair standing wildly on end. Those five years had not been kind to him, Cloud noticed, taking in a lack of wrinkles, a smaller bald spot, and the fading red still remaining amid mostly grey hair. Red XIII going missing had to have worried the astronomer, for there to be such a noticeable change.

Even though the scientist made himself welcome in the room, Cloud noted he did not come too close. The floating green orb parked itself a respectful distance away, and the little old man bobbed cheerily in place, seeming content to just wait while Cloud got himself oriented.

"Good morning." Cloud returned with a polite nod, stretching his arms to work the kinks out of them and smoothing out his clothes. He hadn't even bothered to change into the offered nightclothes—and he suddenly felt completely embarrassed. Here he was, a complete wreck, on the run from ShinRa, and he hadn't even bothered to freshen up before meeting with someone he meant to ask for help?

Granted, the man HAD come to see him...

He must have offered some sort of apologies because the elder just waved them off with a "Not to worry young man. I once traveled the world myself—the grime of the road is nothing new to me."

Cloud nodded his thanks, moving to Sephiroth's side and checking his pulse, and breathing. Just as slow as it had been for the past week. It was as if the man was trying to conserve energy, stretching out his reserves as long as possible until whatever it was passed. He could almost liken it to a healing sleep, the trances he'd seen some of his fellow SOLDIERs fall in to whenever critically wounded. SOLDIERs could fight and fight and fight some more, but once they got some time to rest, once the adrenaline failed, they either needed medical attention or a quiet place to crash as the mako drew on everything in order to heal them back up.

Those lasted for a couple days at most. Not nearly three weeks.

"Krayak told me you wanted to see me? I admit being curious as to what a SOLDIER and his…friend want with an eccentric stargazer such as myself. Cosmo Canyon is open to any who need a place of peace and rest, but I get the feeling that is not all you need."

Cloud remained silent, looking down at Sephiroth, bringing to mind the startling silver buried underneath concealing cloth. "He has not eaten. Woken. Spoken. For an entire span of three weeks."

"I assume he is another SOLDIER, since I doubt you would bring me a corpse." Bugenhagen floated closer, "I may act as the Canyon's local physician when needed, but I am not a doctor. ShinRa doctors would be a far better choice than I."

Cloud sighed, sinking on to the corner of the bed, palms digging into his eyes, fingers brushing against rough skin that had once been covered by bandages, but Cloud had never bothered to change them. The burns were visible now, scars. Mako wouldn't heal mako induced burns. Not completely.

"ShinRa medical staff caused it." In the end, that's all Cloud could say, he picked at the edge of his scars before dropping his hands with a sigh. He reached for the bag he'd juryrigged out of his worn uniform jacket, dragging it on top of the bed and pulling out a fistful of crumpled papers. They were what remained of the medical charts he'd taken from Hojo's laboratory. He'd lost a good portion of them to a sudden rainstorm, but it was still something. He thought about just handing them over, to put the future of the strongest man in the world in the hands of the elder of this neutral city. Whether he would turn them in, turn them away, or help, it wouldn't be on Cloud's shoulders any more.

The Nibelheim mission wouldn't happen. In his sleep deprived state he'd asked after the date. He remembered when the Nibelhiem mission had occurred; he'd had the date burned into his memory for years upon years. It had been three days ago.

Intellectually, Cloud realized he'd done what he'd set out to do. He'd removed Sephiroth from Hojo's influence, decapitated the SOLDIER program, and prevented the worst event of his life. His hands clenched at the thought, rough nails biting into sword calloused palms. The papers crumpled further, the sound only a mere blip on his radar-if he'd finished everything, then why did he feel as if he'd accomplished nothing?

"…my boy?"

Bugenhagen's polite inquiry dragged Cloud's wandering mind back to the present. He took a deep, shaking breath, realizing once more how very _tired_ he was. "…sorry."

"There is more to this story, isn't there? Your mind appears to be off in the Northern Crater right now." Bugenhagen chuckled, "Try not to get lost, it is a frightening place."

That comment didn't serve to help much, drawing to mind harsh winds and plummeting colds, clinging to a steep cliff face, squinting through driving snow and praying to all Gaea that the others were doing fine. That Red could hold on, that Yuffie wasn't too light, that Barret could keep steady with just one hand…

Bugenhagen frowned as the SOLDIER—who'd thus far seemed an amiable, if somewhat quiet young man—completely closed off, recognizing the blank face and distant eyes as one who'd traveled far, far away. Flashback maybe.

He decided some jesting was in order. That expression was much too dour looking for such a bright face. Even with the scars he'd glimpsed briefly when pale blonde spikes where brushed aside, the young man just seemed too…young to look so old and worn. "If I do agree to help, I'll be breaking about a dozen patent laws to do more than merely examine him."

Bugenhagen folded his arms into his billowing sleeves, chuckling as that comment banished the distant look and settled into something a little more age appropriate, somewhere between embarrassment and guilt. He decided to head off the guilt, throwing in a "I didn't say I'd agree. But…If you aren't going to go to ShinRa, the only other option is Mideel, on the other side of the world. Transportation aside, you might not even have the time. Even SOLDIERs must eventually run out of stored energy." He sighed, "I must think of the repercussions, but I am not one to turn away such road weary warrior. Please try and relax, shake the dust off a little, oh ho. I'd be glad to do a check up, if it would put your mind at ease. May I?"

The SOLDIER's expression was conflicted, wary, but hopeful all the same, "If ShinRa finds out—"

"I'd never rat out someone concerned for their friend." Buganahagan remarked, tugging lightly on his beard, "A basic examination is well within my rights as a credited medic, treatment on a SOLDIER…now that's where the patent laws come in. The question is whether or not the Canyon can afford to cross ShinRa in this matter. "

Bugenhagen drifted closer as the young man gave in and motioned him over, and relinquished his place at his companion's side. Bugenhagen watched as he slumped onto the second bed in the double room, clenching the disarrayed blankets tightly as he tried to relax—and failed. Bugenhagen quirked an eyebrow, "You are welcome to wander the Canyon while I perform the examination, perhaps I might recommend the use of our wonderful hot springs? Do not take offense, my boy, but you could use a bit of scrubbing down."

Ah, there was the first hint of a smile he'd seen yet on that tired face. "That's…not a bad idea."

"Good, good. The inn provides courtesy towels from the front desk, and they should be able to provide you better directions than my scattered brain could. I can name the stars in the sky, but I have no mind for geography." He chuckled, waving the young man out of the room, "I'll either have someone inform you, or find you myself once I've finished, so enjoy yourself and take your time. Guests have informed me that the views from the terraces are unmatched in their serenity."

After a few more reassurances—he admired how concerned Cloud (whose name he'd just learned) was for his friend—Bugenhagen was able to usher the SOLDIER out of the room and turn his attention to the patient on the bed. First things first he had to see this mysterious friend, that cloak would get in the way of all his diagnostic tests other than perhaps checking his pulse. Once black fabric gave way to silver, Bugenhagen blinked behind his sunglasses and reeled back, taking in flowing silver, and a face even he'd seen on ShinRa propaganda posters, and often enough in the newspaper.

"Well, well." Bugenhagen mused, "Make that a couple hundred laws."

Whatever could have put ShinRa's star SOLDIER in such a state? Especially if Cloud was telling the truth, and it was ShinRa itself that permitted it. He suddenly understood the paranoia now.

-.-

Zack hadn't slept in weeks. Not naturally. Every time he closed his eyes he'd have that damn melody clawing at his brain. He'd managed to drug himself to sleep, but even that wasn't helping anymore. It was just too damn loud. To make matters worse the infirmary refused to let him have a stronger dosage. Lack of sleep left Zack irritated, but he didn't have much energy to do anything other than go to work and then collapse at home.

Zack was heading there now, in fact, doing his best to disguise the weight in his steps and the slump of his shoulders as he passed other SOLDIERS in the halls of the compound. He was their acting commanding officer—he had an image to keep, an example to uphold. Zack didn't like responsibility, but he knew better to shirk it. It was Seph's. He just needed to keep it together until he came back.

Because he would come back. The fact that he'd be listed as a deserter by now if ShinRa wasn't keeping it hush-hush didn't change that.

Zack paused and leaned against the wall. This deserted hallway was as good a place as any to try and clear his head.

"Fair. A moment of your time?"

Zack snapped awake—had he fallen asleep? The ringing in his mind was fading now, and he felt if he could just listen harder, he might be able to finally make out the words…

He shook his head, raking a gloved hand through black spikes, holding the strands away from his face. Not now, Zack. Don't drift like that. He'd been in a haze for so long now…

"…Zack?"

Again with the voice. He knew that voice. And it normally didn't sound like that. Concerned. He jerked his head around, and the haze cleared, "Tseng! Sorry. Sure. I have a moment. To give." He put on his best lopsided grin, "I've been meaning to talk to you anyway." He'd been meaning to do so many things lately—why hadn't he?

The Turk had an odd non-expression that left Zack feeling edgy, but he followed the Tseng's lead when he motioned into one of the darkened offices that lined the hallway. They ducked inside, and Zack took in the space. It was the layout that was standard throughout the building, the same as his—Seph's office, although it had more personality. There were a few knickknacks here and there, a couple pictures that he couldn't make out in the dark, but Zack's eyes were drawn to what looked like a stuffed cat sitting on the corner of the desk. It was kinda cute, black and white patchwork fur, a crown and an easy smile. Next to it was a set of various paraphernalia, all with the seal for Urban Development plastered on it. How did he end up here? That's a few floors down from where he'd stopped.

He turned back to Tseng, unease growing as he realized Tseng was watching him again. "Tseng? What'd you want?"

"You look tired." Tseng expression didn't change, and his voice sounded off, as if merely making an observation of the weather. Which was strange enough as it was. Tseng was not known for small talk. In fact, he was known to avoid casual conversation.

Zack forced himself to keep up a smile, "It's nothing. I just haven't been getting much sleep. You know how it is."

"No. I don't think I do." The Turk moved, and Zack noticed Tseng had been carrying a set of folders the whole time. How had he not noticed? A Turk with a folder. The dread began gnawing at his insides. Last time that happened it didn't go very well.

"This…problem." Problem was a good word for it, "As working director of SOLDIER, are you aware that it is not an isolated case?" Zack blinked, tilting his head owlishly. Tseng just gave him another look, "Of course not." He cracked the folder open, "I took the liberty of pulling the infirmary records for the past month. 27% of the Third Class SOLDIERS sought medical help, and a good 40% of them showing the same signs. Distraction, fatigue, daytime sleepiness, and excessive clumsiness—are these sounding familiar?" He flipped to the next page, "46% of the Seconds also sought medical means in order to sleep during the same time period. The most worrisome of these figures pertains to the First Class SOLDIERS." Tseng looked away from the printed sheets, and Zack found himself pinned under that piercing stare, "ALL of them have requested sleeping medication. In the last week, 90% of them requested a stronger dosage."

Zack remained silent as Tseng placed the folder down on the desk, pressing some invisible wrinkles out of his suit, "Tell me Zack," the words hung in the air for a moment, "Do you hear singing?"

The SOLDIER sighed, shoulders slumping. He hadn't told anyone. Not even the doctor. Why would he? It was insane! He bit his lip, all too aware that Tseng was watching him intently.

"Yes."

"Then this is no longer classified."

Tseng waited for Zack to finish sputtering incoherently and leveled him a flat stare, one that Zack read as 'Don't give me that look, Fair.'

"This information would normally be well beyond your clearance, even at your current rank. However, the professor's pet project is now compromising the company's safety by compromising the SOLDIERs themselves. Do you understand me, Fair?" Tseng didn't wait for a confirmation, moving along in his normal businesslike manner, "A substance known as J-cells are commonly used in the process used to create a SOLDIER. It streamlines the physical changes mostly, coaxing the body to accept the mako more efficiently. There is a mental aspect to this as well, tweaking the mind in order to handle the reflexes, and senses of an enhanced SOLDIER. The professor has determined that the singing is a resonance of the J-cells used in the SOLDIER creation process, as a result of some phenomenon he terms 'The Reunion.'"

Zack listened—trying _very very_ hard to keep his mind on Tseng's words. This was important, he knew—but as Tseng's briefing got more and more detailed he was finding it harder and harder to focus on it. In the end, he didn't really care _what_ was causing the singing. He just needed it to stop. He told as much to Tseng, when the Turk took a pause to judge Zack's reaction.

"The professor claims that this is a short-lived phenomenon, and should die out within another week. Possibly two. However, until then there are methods I would like you to pass along to the First Classes, and those of the seconds with the worst conditions. Physical exertion to the point of exhaustion should allow for undisturbed sleep, as would the use of Sleep materia. Casting Wall before retiring should give some reprieve for so long as the spell lasts, but not the entire night. I would suggest consulting Valentine about this matter as well. Given his background, he should have some experience with mental intrusions."

That thought flickered through the fog, but didn't slip out again afterward. "Valentine?" Zack asked hesitantly, rubbing his forehead with his palm as if trying to stimulate the memory. Tseng spoke as if Zack was familiar with this person, but he didn't know anyone whom Tseng would know. Only… "Vincent…?" But Vincent hated ShinRa.

Tseng sighed. "Fair, I am going to suggest something off the record, and I would like you to consider it well. Go to Sector Six tonight. Stay with Valentine. Tell him to cast Sleep and keep a Wall up all night. He can wake you up, and survive any instinctual retaliation that may come. Then ask him about Chaos in the morning, after you've managed to screw your head back on."

He paused. Eyeing Zack, who had ended up leaning against the wall, head falling and then jerking back up occasionally, Tseng made a decision. He grabbed the SOLDIER securely, leading him out of the office, "Come."

Zack couldn't even bring himself to protest.

-.-

It hadn't taken long for Cloud to notice his tail. He'd been restless over the course of the last day and wandered the canyon. He hadn't been able to properly explore it on his only visit here; it'd just been a stopping point on the way from Nibelheim to Midgar all those years ago. Of course he _remembered_ another few visits. The Gi Caves. AVALANCHE around the fire. But those hadn't actually happened. He itched at the healed burns underneath the clean bandages that had been thoughtfully provided for him and looked out over the sunset colored stone that made up Cosmo Canyon. Something was wrong.

He'd returned to his rooms to find Sephiroth had been moved, a note left behind telling him that Bugenhagen had relocated to his normal chambers, since that was where his diagnostic equipment was. It made Cloud anxious to have Sephiroth out of his sight, but in the end hadn't gone storming after them to hover like a helicopter. It wasn't like he could do anything, and he didn't fear Bugenhagen would be calling ShinRa. His time was far better spent stalking about the canyon, attempting to burn off the nervous energy buzzing through his body.

Of course his wanderings had drawn attention. Most of the residents just gave him curious looks, but no more. One, however, was a little more interested than that. And it wasn't helping his nerves.

"Red, could you not stalk me right now? It isn't the best time." He said, almost without thinking. He heard the startled shift somewhere at his back. Four paws scrabbled uncertainly, and a glance showed the wolfcat hunching further into his shadowed alcove in the canyon wall. Cloud had always been impressed with Red's ability to hide, especially with that flaming tail of his. "My nerves can't handle it. So just come on out. I promise I won't tell your Grandfather I caught you."

Hesitantly, the wolfcat emerged from the alcove. Cloud half turned, leaning against the railing running along the edge of the plateau. All in all, Red didn't look that different. He'd been a long-lived species, Cloud recalled, so he likely hadn't changed much in the five years between now and…what might have been. Cloud was a little surprised to see two golden eyes staring out at him, but he'd always wondered if the scar that had cost red his left eye had been the result of his stay with Hojo.

No…he'd never wondered. Someone else had. He shook his head. He wondered if he would ever be able to properly differentiate between the two.

Cloud paused, realizing what had been bothering him so much.

He hadn't dreamed last night.

That disturbing line of thought was shoved to the back of his mind when Red spoke slowly, "You aren't surprised?"

"No." And how was he supposed to explain this? He turned back out to overlook the canyon again, crossing his arms on the cold railing. He took a moment for formulate the explanation, decided truth was better than not. Red had always been perceptive. "I've meet one of your kind. A long…long time ago."

The wolfcat huffed at the answer, padding cautiously over to Cloud's side. A glance down informed Cloud that the answer had meant more to the cat than he'd even guessed. His species had always been a sore point for him. Mother dead. Father gone. Red was the only one left, as far as he knew.

"Grandfather did say there were others out there." Red didn't take those gold eyes off Cloud, even if he had to perpetually look up to keep him completely in sight, "Could you…remember where?"

Cloud shook his head ruefully, "We traveled together for a time. He never did say where he was going."

Red accepted this, tail flicking absently against the stone floor. Cloud watched in amusement as it passed over a scraggly piece of weed reaching up from a crack in the smooth stone, half expecting it to catch fire.

"Are you really a SOLDIER?"

"I was." And that was all Cloud would say on the matter. Red also accepted that. Cloud remembered how the wolfcat had been when they first met, and decided Hojo's ministrations hadn't really changed him all that much.

They sat in silence for a while as the sun sunk slowly toward the horizon, Red's tail flicking idly to the tune Cloud was tapping lightly against the metal.

"I've always wanted to travel." Red said wistfully, "I've never been beyond the canyon."

"Someday you will." Cloud promised. He only hoped the journey would be a better one this time. "I'd stay away from Midgar, though."

Red raised an eyebrow while Cloud grimaced at the memory, "Most of the people are nice enough, but it's not a very pleasant city. Mako harvesting has killed nearly everything for miles around."

It could have been the fading light, but Red's eyes seemed to darken at the mention of mako extraction. Given where he was, Cloud wasn't surprised. Deciding to drop the topic he suddenly turned fully toward Red, "My name is Cloud."

"Nanaki." Came only moments later. With another person, there would be handshakes now. They didn't need them. Cloud motioned toward the lit corridor, shining as the sun sunk behind the canyon walls, "Shall we go inside?"

And so they did. Cloud led the wolfcat back to the inn, once again ignoring the startled looks on the residents' faces as Nanaki padded along behind him. He knew they weren't used to Nanaki revealing himself to outsiders.

There they talked quietly for a while, Cloud reveling in just being able to sit down and have a conversation with another being. He didn't have a mission pressing, he wasn't on the road, carting around an unconscious general who would get them both captured, and him likely killed if recognized. He didn't even have the pressing weight of the Nibelheim mission on his shoulders either. His lack of dreams still unnerved him, but he was able to ignore it. Red—no, Nanaki, he reminded himself—was quite interested in Cloud's travels. Cloud tried to keep his stories involving the places he'd gone during his years with ShinRa, but occasionally he slipped up and a tidbit from his dreams snuck in. Nanaki didn't seem to notice, of course. He even seemed quite amused at Cloud's retelling of the chaotic snowboard ride down a mountainside, and of the area surrounding his crash site.

At length he got Nanaki talking about the Canyon. About the Lifestream. About Planet Sciences. He listened intently as the wolfcat hesitantly began, growing more confident as Cloud actually seemed to be interested in the subject. Cloud had the feeling Nanaki hadn't ever had an eager listener before. Everyone who knew of him usually studied the same things, and those who didn't were outsiders, whom he rarely spoke to.

Cloud merely listened for a while, until Nanaki said something that really caught his attention, "Wait. What was that about dreams?"

Nanaki paused, surprised at the interruption. He was curled up on a rug, across from Cloud who was resting his back against the side of the bed, also on the floor to put him on the same level as Nanaki, "Nothing concrete. It isn't a very well explored area, not like the effects of Mako Harvesting. However, there are a few people studying dreams, and one of the popular theories is that they are a result of a residual connection to the Lifestream. It is theorized that the walls surrounding that connection, our conscious thoughts, our sense of self, is lowered when we sleep, allowing bits and pieces of the Lifestream through. The Lifestream, we know, is made up of the remnants of souls, and memories that we leave behind when we die. Dreams, we believe, occur when those pieces of memories slip into the unconscious mind, which fit them together to create our own unique dreams."

Cloud frowned. It sounded plausible for how most people dreamed. But it didn't fit his own circumstances. His dreams were too consistent, too vivid to be the result of his brain trying to piece together random, foreign bits of information. Not to mention the fact that they spoke the truth, even if he ignored the events. Places. People. Information. He'd double and triple checked much, finding matches in places he'd never been outside his dreams. In people he'd never known, but ended up knowing so well. "This…connection. Does that mean people without it don't dream?"

Nanaki chuckled, crossing his paws, "Were you not paying attention? Planet sciences teach that all life comes from the Lifestream, lives, and then dies, returning to the main flow. That act of filling, and then draining, implies that all life has a constant connection, even if it is small. There was once a race who had a very close connection to the Lifestream, who could speak to the Planet and have it answer back, but as far as we are aware, the Cetra died out long ago." He said that last bit with regret. Cloud bit his lip to prevent himself from saying anything. He _shouldn't_ know anything. Aeris had never come straight out and said anything. Although he suspected she thought he was an Ancient, as well. At length, Nanaki continued, "Anyway. Everyone is connected. Some people have stronger connections, and the strength of these connections are theorized to effect many aspects, from innate ability with materia, to the lucidity of dreams. Exposure to refined mako is said to strengthen the connection some, which is why SOLDIERs tend to have a higher range of skills with spells. Unrefined Lifestream however…is the only real evidence we have supporting this theory."

Cloud leaned in, tensing slightly, "Is it because…many people never wake up?"

Nanaki nodded slightly. It wasn't even a nod really, just an inclination of his muzzle. "Very few wake up after coming in to contact with the Lifestream, locked in what we can only assume to be never ending dreams. Those who do wake never speak of it. We had one pass through the canyon a few years back, and he feared falling asleep."

Cloud let the conversation drift away from that, it was hitting a little too close to home. He was lost in thought when he felt something cold against his hand. His eyes cleared only to find Nanaki's face looking up at him. The wolfcat had scooted closer, nudging Cloud's limp hand with his nose. "You look far away. Be careful or you may get lost."

Cloud couldn't help the quiet chuckle. "Your Grandfather told me something similar." He raked his hand through his hair, noting Nanaki's flinch as the motion pushed his hair away from his face. He felt that his bandages had shifted, and knew his scars were likely visible, burns disappearing into his too-light hair. He sighed, wondering if the color would ever be right again. Everything had gotten better after the first time. But that hadn't been refined mako.

"When I was young…I fell in to a natural spring. In the Nibelheim mountains." It felt weird to speak of. He never had before. His mother had been there after it happened. He didn't need to tell her. He didn't wake Vincent up until after he'd come to terms with it. After that, there'd been no need to tell anyone.

"Is that where…" Nanaki's eyes flicked to his face again.

Cloud shook his head, "Three weeks ago. Almost a fall into a reactor. I caught myself. Barely." He resisted the urge to pick at the scars again. They bothered him. "There is a difference, you know. Between refined and unrefined. You still keep yourself with refined mako. It changes your body. It burns. But it doesn't destroy your sense of self. Lifestream…" He let the word trail off, hanging in the air. He didn't know why he was talking about this. Maybe it was the way Red was looking at him, silently, patiently, head now resting on Cloud's knee. Red always seemed to be easy to talk to. He just listened. And he was the closest thing to an expert on Lifestream that Cloud _trusted_. Even if he'd technically just met Nanaki. He _knew_ Red. In the way he'd _known_ Vincent. Zack. Aeris.

"Lifestream just washes you away. You are a single water droplet in a river. It absorbs you. Mixing you up in that same roiling flow. If you are lucky, it spits you out again. But it might not be all you were. You may never _be _you again." Had he ever truly been Cloud? He'd had that other self—those memories that weren't. The _dreams_—as long as he could remember. They'd been there, influencing him. It traumatized a child to see his village burning every night. To _know_ without a doubt that his mother was dead. _Everyone_ was dead. Because he'd been there. They all thought it was an accident. Just nightmares. He'd had no lasting, visible effects from his swim, not like his scars now. Except the dreams.

It had been both elating and terrifying to find Vincent in the mansion. On the one hand, he wasn't crazy. On the other—_it was true_. They would die. They would all die. It would happen.

Except he'd beaten it. Sephiroth would never go on the Nibelheim mission. Vincent would keep Aeris from Hojo. Zack wouldn't end up in Hojo's clutches. Cloud would never get Zack killed.

Meteor wouldn't be disturbed. Holy wouldn't have to be summoned.

He didn't know when his fingers had gotten into Red's mane, but the wolfcat didn't say anything. They just sat there, long in to the night.

When he finally fell asleep, he didn't dream.

A/N: I liiiiiive!

I seem to be saying that a lot.

I've been sitting on half this chapter for months now, but a certain IRL friend is completely responsible for kicking my inspiration into gear. I ended up writing the last 2k words or so at work x.x But at least it's done now. Sephiroth should be waking up next chapter –I'm sure a couple people are annoyed at how long it took ;;


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